


Wolf in Lion's Clothes

by Copiel



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Arranged Marriage, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Family Drama, Multi, Parent-Child Relationship, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-05-14 10:07:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19271056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Copiel/pseuds/Copiel
Summary: Miranna Lannister, daughter of Tywin Lannister, half-sister to Cersei, Jaime and Tyrion, is determined to find her own way in life, to avoid a loveless marriage like the one her sister is in, and to step out of the shadow her family casts over her. Her sister's husband, the King, complicates matters when it becomes clear that tensions between the Starks and the Lannisters are unlikely to ever disappear. Suddenly betrothed to the Stark's eldest son, Miranna must endure war, betrayals, and death, all while testing her loyalty to her families, both old and new.This will be mostly canon compliant with the TV show,  though certain characters and interactions may be omitted.





	1. Prologue

"Damn it, Ned, stand up."

Ned rose from the ground, still taken aback by the King's request.

"You helped me win the Iron Throne, now help me keep the damn thing." Ned chose not to respond, simply giving Robert a look that conveyed his uncertainty, yet not wanting to voice his thoughts at the risk of offending his friend. "We were meant to rule together. If your sister had lived, we'd've been bound by blood. But it's not too late—I have a son, you have a daughter."

At this, Ned's mouth fell open. In the back of his mind, he'd known that he would have to marry his children off someday, but he hadn't thought that day was today. Sansa seemed too young for the idea of marriage, no matter what she seemed to think. The girl hadn't even bled yet, as far as he knew.

Robert, dissatisfied with Ned's lack of response, frowned. "We'll join our houses." He strode past Ned further into the crypt, leaving the Stark no choice but to follow him.

"You know I would want nothing more than for us to be bound by blood. However-"

"I'll hear no more of it. Unless, of course, you and Cat object so strongly I have no choice but to relent and let yourselves find the girl a match, but who could be a better match than my son, the Prince?"

"I have no objection to it, Robert. I've not put much thought into her marriage yet, that's all. I never imagined I'd send her so far South, but that was me thinking foolishly."

Robert grunted. "I don't blame you, Ned. If I'd gotten to stay away from King's Landing as long as you, I wouldn't want a reason to return either!" He gave a great wheeze that descended into laughter. Ned gave an amused smile.

"That being said, I know you don't trust many in King's Landing, least of all the Lannisters. As your King, I'll not stand for the contempt between you both."

Ned furrowed his eyebrows. "I applogize for any offense I may have caused the Queen's family upon their arrival."

"Gods, Ned, you couldn't've been more of a gracious host than if you'd lain down for the Queen to walk on! I'm referring to you and Tywin. Probably Jaime as well, that arrogant prick."

"What happened during the rebellion is behind us. Whatever I said then came from a grieving boy, not the man I am now."

"A man like Tywin doesn't easily forget another man viewing his actions as dishonorable, Ned. Not to mention calling his son dishonorable."

"The man destroyed an entire House, man, woman, and child twice. You can't tell me killing children passes as honorable." Ned took a deep breath in an attempt to regain his composure. "And I'm far from the only man to think Jaime earned his nickname."

"But you were a man from a noble house, Ned. And you know how Lannisters value their reputations, almost as much as they value their grudges." Robert gave an exasperated sigh. "Dammit, Ned. I don't want to be caught in the middle of a Stark and Lannister war, if it comes to that."

"Then Sansa marrying Joffrey-"

"My boy is a Baratheon, Ned, not a Lannister. And however much of a pain in my ass Tywin Lannister may be, his daughter has borne my children, and I am bound to him by blood. All I need is for a Stark to marry a Lannister and our families will be the strongest allies in all of Westeros."

The two men were nearing Lyanna's statue, resulting in Robert becoming solemn.

"I won't be forced to choose to support my best man or my wife's father. I want your boy to marry Tywin's girl to put an end to this before it begins, regardless of what that gold shitter thinks."

Ned didn't respond, but gave a curt nod when Robert looked back at him.

"Good. I'll send Tywin a raven tonight. Gods know he's wanted to have her betrothed for some time now, and I'm sure he'd prefer your son to some Frey cock." He chuckled to himself. "Honestly, this may be the most strategic I've been as King."

"I'm not sure who I'm to feel more sorry for—you or your subjects."

Robert gave a laugh at that, but it died off once they arrived at Lyanna's statue. While he was paying his respects, Ned ruminated on how he was to break the news to his wife and son.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter was mainly shameless exposition and plot setup, I hope it wasn't too tedious. I hope the rest of the story makes up for it! As my first Game of Thrones fic I'll gladly accept feedback, especially once I introduce my OC in the next chapter. I've never written a work with an OC before, either, so any feedback or suggestions on that would also be appreciated!  
> Thanks for reading!


	2. I: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Robert Baratheon and the Lannisters arrive in Winterfell.

"Do you think it'll snow while we're here?"

Miranna Lannister smiled at her nephew. "I can't say. We may not stay long enough for the snows to begin. Of course, I'm not sure how well we'd handle the cold if it did snow."

"I'd be able to handle it! I know I would."

"Tommen, it's for the best we don't see snow during our stay. I wouldn't want you or your sister to catch cold." Cersei gave Miranna a pointed look. "Of course, we must  _all_ be careful with our health, especially with the North being so cold."

Miranna narrowed her eyes. "I look forward to enjoying Winterfell in all its glory, both indoors and out. I plan to go for a ride, as I'm sure the woods will be beautiful to ride through."

"The trees here _are_ quite different from King's Landing." Myrcella's eyes lit up. "I've heard they've got a Weirwood."

"Of course. Northerners continue to worship the Old Gods in addition to the New, somehow."

 _Cersei, always so haughty towards the Northerners._ Miranna loved her half-sister, yet she grew tiresome of her the more she was around her. The month-long ride north hadn't helped in the slightest, as she was stuck with Cersei and forced to listen to her backhanded remarks about Winterfell and its inhabitants.

Winterfell would be the farthest north Miranna had ever been. Everywhere else she had visited or lived had been south, and she'd taken to listing the castles in her head and picturing them in order to keep herself occupied.

_Casterly Rock. Stonehelm. King's Landing. And, soon enough, Winterfell._

She had always wanted to travel further south to Dorne, but she supposed that could wait until she returned to King's Landing.

"I can see the castle!" Tommen put his face right up against the window to get a better look.

"Darling, don't squash your face. We're nearly there and I want you to be as handsome as ever when we arrive," Cersei tutted.

Miranna craned her neck and managed a glimpse of Winterfell for herself. It wasn't as large as King's Landing, nor did it appear as lavish, but she found it appealing nonetheless.

Cersei, seeming to have finished fretting over her children, turned her attention to Miranna. "Is there nothing to be done about your mane, Mrianna?"

Miranna raised a hand and gingerly prodded at her hair. It was worn simply, with two braids at her temples holding the rest of her hair back. It was down to the bottom of her shoulder blades, blonde, thick, and curly, not unlike Tyrion's hair. When she was younger, Cersei had affectionately referred to it as her lion's mane, though the words turned mocking as she grew older, and failed to grow out of her hair.

"I asked Fryda to brush it twice." She had hoped the brushing would tame her locks, yet it only made her hair frizzy.

Cersei frowned. "And yet it only looks unrulier than if you hadn't done anything at all. Such a shame nothing more can be done before we arrive."

Biting her lip, Miranna hoped it didn't look as bad as Cersei suggested, but Tommen and Myrcella's silence on the matter was enough proof for its poor state.

"They should understand, since we have been riding for a month. Besides, I'm sure they won't be minding me when they have you and Robert to greet."

The carriage stopped, and Miranna was grateful that Cersei didn't have the opportunity to push the matter further. A squire opened the doors. The handmaidens exited first, then Tommen, Myrcella, and Miranna herself. She took her place besides Myrcella.

King Robert was already greeting the Starks, who were all in a line. Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn were easy enough for Miranna to identify. The boy whose hand Robert was now shaking must be the eldest son, Robb. Sansa was the tall girl with red hair, and the girl besides her was her sister, Arya. The youngest Stark boys were on either end of the family, but for the life of her Miranna could not remember which one was Brandon and which was Rickon. She supposed she could worry about that later.

She took a moment, ignoring the Stark family, Robert, and Cersei to observe Winterfell. The walls were tall, thick, and looked to be older than anything in King's Landing. There didn't seem to be any bright colors in sight, as the Stark children were either dressed in their House colors or the blue of House Tully, in Sansa's case. The cool air was not unpleasant, but she was glad for her fur cloak. She hoped for the opportunity to use it during a snowfall, if she should be so lucky to witness one.

The King strode off with Lord Stark, and the crowd began to dissipate. A servant woman approached Cersei.

"Your grace, I'll show you and your family to your chambers."

Cersei turned to her children. "Come along, darlings."

Miranna followed behind her niece and nephew as they were led to the guest house. Cersei and her children were shown to their rooms first, and Miranna was left to follow the woman up a flight of stairs.

"How old is Winterfell, if you recall?"

"Oh, I'm not certain, milady. Several thousand years, at least. They say it stood even as King's Landing was being built."

"Fascinating." Miranna ran her hand along the stone wall as they strode down the hall.

"Does milady have a love of history?"

Miranna chuckled. "I can't say I enjoyed the lessons, but I've always loved old structures. They've seen so much life and death that they develop their own personality."

"And what is Winterfell like, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Cold on the outside, warm on the inside. Quite the opposite of King's Landing."

The woman stopped in front of a door at the end of the corridor. "Here you are, Lady Miranna."

"Thank you." She closed the door gently. Her room was not large, lacking a fireplace, but it was not cold. Furs and linens had already been laid out on the bed. She ran her hand over a brown fur, relishing in the softness. Her trunk had already been delivered at the foot of her bed, and she wasted no time in unpacking the gown she'd decided to wear to the feast later that night. It was a deep Lannister red with gold embroidery on the bodice, cuffs, and neckline. Cersei had insisted on it, as it would be a clear indicator of her House. Not that Miranda disliked the dress. The neckline was curved, and showed off her collarbones, much to her pleasure. As a girl of sixteen and still unbetrothed, she was typically encouraged to remain modest in her dress.

A knock at her door disrupted her thoughts. "Come in," she called.

Fryda, her handmaiden, entered the room. "My lady, do you need any help getting settled in?"

"No, thank you. I've gotten what I need for tonight ready, and I didn't pack nearly as much as my sister."

Fryda smiled. "Very well. Will you be needing me much tonight? The Queen wanted me to help her get ready as well."

"She needs two handmaidens to get dressed?" Fryda shrugged.

Miranna sighed. "It shouldn't be a problem. I can manage getting into my dress just fine on my own, though I will be needing help with my hair."

"Of course. Cersei won't need four hands for her hair." Fryda turned to leave, pausing when Miranna also started for the door.  "Are you leaving, my lady?"

"Only to see that my horse is settled in." She took her cloak from the hook on the door, and fastened it around her neck. "If anyone asks where I am, I'll be in the stables."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few quick things:  
> I'm writing this with Myrcella around 12 and Tommen about 10, so somewhere between the books and the show's retconned ages. Everyone else is written as their ages in the show.  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. II: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranna tends to her horse in the stables and meets Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy, and Robb Stark.

Miranna walked briskly across the courtyard, enjoying the activity around her. Kitchen maids were carrying buckets and baskets, one man carried a barrel of ale over his shoulder, and a young man guided a wheelbarrow full of firewood towards the smithy, which had the sound of metal hitting metal emanating from it. There were no markets full of fruit sellers or merchants, shouting to advertise their wares. She hadn't been to Winter Town yet, where she believed the markets must be. That could wait for tomorrow.

The stables were warmer than they looked. Miranna was half-tempted to remove her cloak, but knew she'd just have to put it back on when she left. A boy was tending to the horses near the back.

"Excuse me, where is the horse that was brought in today?"

The boy looked over, and Miranna recognized him from her arrival, though she had no idea who he was. He wasn't a Stark child, yet he held several Stark features.

"All the Lannister horses are being kept separately, my lady."

"I made a request that one be kept in the stables. She's a red-brown mare with a white diamond marking her forehead."

The boy walked among the stalls of horses, before stopping in front of one. "I don't recognize this one."

Miranna walked up to the horse, recognizing her once she got a look at her face. "Hello, sweet girl. Thank you," she called to the boy.

He must've gone back to work, as there was no response. Miranna took this as a sign to be quiet, choosing to pet her horse's nose, though she couldn't keep herself from glancing at the stable boy. She'd taken note of his hair, which was dark and, more notably, curlier than her own hair. _Not hideously frizzy, like mine._

"Do you use a brush on your hair?"

He stiffened. "I beg your pardon, my lady?"

"I was just asking if you use a brush on your hair."

He glanced back at her. "No, just my fingers," he said delicately 

Miranna lowered her gaze. "I'm sorry, I mean no harm. I just wanted to find out if I should throw out the brush my handmaiden has been using, and I've gotten my answer."

He chuckled at that. "I'm glad to have been of service, my lady."

She gave him a warm smile. "You've likely prevented a lifetime of this," she gestured to her hair, "from ever happening again, and I thank you for that...erm..."

"Jon Snow."

"Jon Snow." Miranna paused. "You're Lord Stark's...son."

Jon frowned. "That's one way to put it."

"I mean no offense." She fiddled with the cuffs of her dress. "I should probably introduce myself. Miranna Lannister." She gave a half-curtsy.

"I know. I've not been introduced to your horse yet, if we're making introductions." Jon gave a small smile.

Miranna chuckled. "Of course, I'm being completely rude. This is Arenna."

"Interesting name for a horse."

"She's named after my mother."

"Is your mother...?"

"Yes. She died in childbirth."

A look of sadness crossed Jon's features, but also a look of understanding. "I'm sorry to hear that."

 _He never knew his mother, either_.

"Thank you." Miranna cleared her throat. "My father always said she was a rather delicate woman."

Jon was silent for a moment. "If he knew she'd die, why would he have a child with her?"

"He wanted an heir. Instead, he got another daughter to marry off." Miranna ran her fingers through her horse's mane.

"Doesn't Tywin have two sons?"

"Jaime can't marry or father children as a member of the Kingsguard. And Tyrion's, well, Tyrion."

"He's still a trueborn son."

Miranna gave a humorless laugh. "If only father would treat him that way." She turned to Jon. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be taking up all of your time."

"I should be apologizing to you, my lady. You've probably got plenty to attend to."

Miranna opened her mouth to say that she had nothing to do beyond getting changed for the feast when two boys burst into the stables.

"There you are, Jon. We've been looking for you to spar." Robb caught sight of Miranna behind Jon. "Lady Miranna," he said as he nodded at her.

"Lord Stark." She half-curtsied again.

"Is the bastard bothering you?" The second boy grinned at Jon and Miranna, as if he was in on a joke that they were not.

"Not at all. We were just talking, and I've now seen to it that my horse is comfortable." She narrowed her eyes. "I don't believe we've met."

"Theon Greyjoy." He strode up to her, Robb close behind. "I already know who you are, Lady Miranna."

"I assumed so, hence why I didn't feel the need to introduce myself." That earned a snicker from Jon and Robb, and an annoyed look from Theon. She allowed herself a slight smile. "If you'll excuse me-"

Theon stepped in front of her. "Is the Prince as much of a prick as he looks?"

"Theon," Robb warned.

"I'm just wondering, she doesn't have to answer. You've seen him firsthand, and I'll trust your judgement over what I've heard."

Miranna bit the inside of her cheek, having had enough of Theon. "He's a right little shit, but he is still your future King, and if he caught wind of you calling him a prick, he wouldn't hesitate in cutting your balls off. Or, more likely, having one of his men cut your balls off for him."

All three boys seemed to have been stunned into silence.

"Right. Now, if you'll excuse me," she slipped between Theon and Jon, "I must be getting on my way."

"You don't talk like a Lady."

Miranna turned to face Theon once again. "I speak like a Lady when it suits me. Otherwise, I say what's necessary to get my point across."

"Do you prefer the company of men over women, then?" Theon licked his lips. "I can't say I blame you. You probably like being able to... _curse_ when it pleases you."

"Theon, _really_?" Robb looked equal parts horrified and disappointed.

"I prefer good company, Lord Greyjoy, regardless of who that may be."

"And are we good company?"

Miranna looked Theon dead in the eyes. "So far, the bastard has proven himself to be good for a conversation. I suppose I'll have to see about you, Lord Greyjoy."

"And me?"

Miranna's eyes met Robb's. "We'll have to have a proper conversation before I can determine that." She bowed her head slightly. "Lord Stark. Lord Greyjoy. Jon Snow."

She heard three voices say "My Lady," and felt three pairs of eyes watching her as she crossed the courtyard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope no one was too OOC but I just had to get Jon Snow loving his hair and knowing how to take care of it (though he probably doesn't use a brush just because he's a man in Westeros). I also had to hold myself back from making an Old Town Road reference.  
> Future me is thanking me already.  
> Thanks for reading! It really makes my day knowing that people are actually seeing this ♡


	4. III: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranna speaks with Jaime before attending the feast at Winterfell.

"Come  _on!"_

Miranna gave two more tugs on the cords of her gown's bodice before giving up. She groaned, cursing herself for telling Fryda she could manage on her own. Now she'd have to wait until Cersei released her, which could take more time than she had.

A knock made her sigh in relief. She stumbled to the door, tugging it open with one hand and holding up her dress with the other.

"I see Cersei-" Miranna gave a surprised yelp when she saw her brother at the door. "Jaime! What are you doing?" She hissed.

"I was coming to see how all you ladies were getting on. You  _do_ take such a long time to get ready for these events."

"Well, if your clothes laced up the back, even you'd take a long time to get dressed. Speaking of, do you mind?" She turned her back to Jaime, jerking her head towards the cords.

Jaime sighed, but began lacing her up. "You'd think you'd have a handmaid to help you with this."

"I do, but Cersei's using her right now." She grunted at a particularly hard tug. "Not so tight! I'd like to breathe tonight."

"I believe it's in your best interest to look as lovely as possible tonight," Jaime said, though the next few tugs were gentler.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"We're here on business, Miranna. Keeping up appearances is an important part of that."

"Yes, because whether or not Ned Stark accepts the position as the Hand of the King relies entirely on how _ravishing_ I look."

Jaime tied off the cords and placed his hands on Miranna's shoulders. "We're not here just so Robert can honor Ned with that title. I heard Joffrey and the Stark girl are to be betrothed." He sighed. "In any case, try not to drink too much tonight. You need to make a good impression." With a wry smile, he clapped one of her shoulders and started out of her room.

She turned to face him. "I'm not the one you should be worried about."

He paused at the doorway, tilting his head. "Of course you are. Any one of the Northern men would love to get their hands on a pretty thing like yourself."

Miranna was stunned into silence as Jaime disappeared down the corridor.

"Pardon me, Ser!" Fryda all but ran into Miranna's room. "Oh, you did get yourself dressed. And the lacing is nice and even. Well done, my lady!"

"Thank you." Miranna sat down, still irked by Jaime's parting words. "See if you can get my hair to behave."

* * *

 Fryda's hard work had paid off, for the most part. It wasn't her fault; the Southern hairstyles never seemed to suit Miranna. Stray hairs always found their way out of the braids, and the ends of curls rose up amongst the mound of hair piled atop her head. Still, it wasn't as noticably frizzy and out of control, which was all she could have asked for.

All of the nobles were waiting to enter the hall, save for Lord and Lady Stark, as they were the hosts. The King and Queen were at the front, followed by Joffrey and Sansa. Robb and Myrcella were next, with the Princess sneaking shy glances at her escort. Robb caught her just as she was looking away, and gave a small smile, which disappeared the moment he laid eyes on Joffrey and Sansa. Sansa was gazing upon the Prince, completely smitten, though Miranna felt she had every right to be, as they were to be betrothed. Tommen waited next to Arya, who refused to hold onto his arm any longer than she needed to. Miranna noted that she was only a bit taller than Arya, four inches at the most, but probably less. She stood a bit straighter.

Bran, her escort, seemed miffed by this. He was about the same height as Arya, and seemed entirely unhappy that he had to walk next to a girl who was taller than him. He hadn't said a word to her and seemed content to stare straight ahead.

Little Rickon was behind them, alone and kicking at the wall beside him. Miranna felt badly for the boy, though she couldn't tell if his discontentment was due to not being an escort or the waiting.

_It couldn't hurt to try and find out._

"Rickon, would you like to join your brother and I?" Miranna offered her free arm with a gentle smile.

The boy stopped his kicking to stare at her, frowning. She felt awkward, especially after glancing up to see Jaime and Theon watching the interaction.

Rickon said nothing, but took her arm nonetheless. Miranna allowed herself a smile, which disappeared when she saw Bran glaring at his brother.

The tension didn't last, as the doors to the hall opened and they walked in. There was cheering and applause as they entered. A small band played an upbeat tune, and the entire hall felt warm and inviting. Miranna tried to keep a neutral expression, but couldn't help a small smile. 

She glanced up at the high table, spotting Lord and Lady Stark. Ned was eyeing his sons with a smile. When he noticed Miranna's gaze, his expression shifted. He looked to be deep in thought, as though he was trying to settle upon something. She looked away, not wanting to appear rude.

Miranna was seated next to Sansa and her friend, Jeyne Poole. Sansa spoke at length about Prince Joffrey, so Miranna took the opportunity to observe the feast. As people ate and drank, they moved around to greet each other. She noticed several boys joining Robb and Theon, and King Robert and Lord Stark left the high table after barely fifteen minutes.

"What is King's Landing like?"

Miranna turned her attention back to Sansa. "A bit warmer than up here." Jeyne giggled at that.

"I know that, but what is the royal court like? The people? Joffrey?"

"Court is interesting for about the first two grievances brought before the King, or, rather, his small council. I wouldn't get excited about that. The people, however, never stop changing. I've seen dignitaries from just about everywhere."

"Dorne?" Jeyne asked.

"Of course. We've even been visited by people from Essos, and the Free Cities over there."

"That's amazing."

"What about Joffrey? You're his aunt, what's he like?"

"He's..." Miranna hesitated, not wanting to tell Sansa he could be rude and a downright ass at times. He was still a boy, and had time to grow and mature. "He's a bit hot headed yet, but I'm sure he'll learn to tame his temper as he gets older. You know how boys can be."

Sansa frowned. "Do you think he'll like me?"

"I don't see how he couldn't like a girl as lovely as yourself."

That seemed to do the trick, with Sansa smiling and blushing as she leaned over to Jeyne.

Miranna took a long drink from her cup of ale, spying Cersei over the rim. She looked disappointed, but the look was not directed towards her. A quick glance behind her revealed Robert kissing and grabbing the ass of a serving woman.

She felt Sansa rising from her seat, and watched her walk up to the high table. Cersei appeared to welcome the distraction. Miranna felt some sympathy for her sister, as she'd seen firsthand the lack of love between her and Robert, even with three beautiful children between them. She prayed that she wouldn't be wed to a man who ignored her, that she'd have a kind, loving husband. Knowing her father, she expected to be betrothed to whomever posed the greatest benefit to House Lannister, whether it was loyalty, land, an army, or all three.

Sansa returned to her seat, disrupting Miranna's thoughts.

"What did the Queen say?" Jeyne pressed.

"She liked my dress!" Sansa was beaming.

Miranna toasted Sansa with her cup, drinking the last of her ale. She looked around the hall, her eyes searching for a barrel of ale when she heard a _splat_ and a gasp from beside her.

" _Arya_!"

Miranna turned to Sansa, who had a glob of food on her cheek. Jenye had a handkerchief at the ready, already cleaning off Sansa's face. Several people, including the boys at the end of the table, laughed at the sight.

"It's not funny!" poor Sansa cried.

A quick search along the table found Arya, a smug grin on her face. Miranna wasn't one to get caught up in sibling animosity, yet she admired the girl's unruly nature.

"She always does this! This was my favorite dress."

"Don't worry, Sansa, I'm sure it can be cleaned." Miranna gave her a sympathetic look.

"It's ruined, she always ruins everything!" Tears had begun to form in the girl's eyes. Luckily, a Septa arrived to console her. Robb walked past, and Miranna watched as he picked Arya up and walked her out of the hall, presumably to bed. Arya didn't look happy to be sent away, though she did manage a smirk when she saw Sansa's distress.

"Perhaps it's best if my lady retired to her chambers."

Sansa nodded to the Septa, rising from the table with Jeyne. "Goodnight, Lady Miranna."

"Goodnight Lady Miranna," Jeyne chimed in.

"Goodnight," Miranna called.

The Septa escorted both of them out of the hall, leaving Miranna alone with an empty cup. She had half a mind to join her niece and nephew, but they'd be sent to bed soon, as would the youngest of the Stark boys. She could always speak to Cersei and Lady Stark.

_I'll need more ale for that._

She stood up, spying a barrel across the hall, and started towards it. Perhaps it would be more ladylike of her to sit and wait for another servant to fill her cup, but the only one she could see was practically in the lap of the King.

"Lady Miranna!" Theon Greyjoy raised his cup. "Looking for something?" He already sounded a bit drunk.

Miranna had been hoping to slip past Theon and the other boys, but then she noticed the multitude of pitchers near them. "I was looking for a drink, actually."

Theon wordlessly raised a pitcher. Miranna walked up to the table, leaning over it to give Theon her cup.

"Are you sure you want another, my lady? A girl of your stature can't handle much drink."

"Really?" Miranna took the opportunity to sit between the boys who'd made room for her. "Lord Greyjoy, I do believe you're mistaken. I often enjoy wine when in King's Landing, perhaps too much for my family's liking."

He handed her cup back to her. "The ale here is stronger than your wine."

"That would explain why you're already piss-drunk."

A chorus of laughter erupted amongst the boys, and Miranna smirked.

"I could still out-drink you."

Miranna's smirk disappeared. "Is that a challenge, Lord Greyjoy?"

Theon refilled his own cup. "Aye, it is."

"Very well, then." She raised her cup to him. "May the best drinker win."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed the Starks escorting the Baratheons from the books, as I thought Myrcella's behavior towards Robb was too cute to leave out! This chapter ended up being a lot longer than I thought it was going to be, so the Winterfell feast will continue in the next chapter!


	5. IV: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranna enjoys the company of Theon Greyjoy and Robb Stark at the feast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I moved the beginning of this chapter to the end of the previous one, so it flows better, so if you're reading this and it feels like a scene is missing, reread chapter III. Otherwise don't worry about it. This'll be irrelevant in a week anyway, so yeah. Enjoy!

_Gods,_ _I'm an idiot_.

Miranna struggled to focus on her cup as Theon poured yet another round. How many had it been? Two? Three? Why had she challenged a boy who was twice her size?

"What's going on here?"

"Robb!" Theon, now truly piss-drunk, stood to clap Robb on the shoulder. "We've missed you! What took you so long?"

"Getting Arya to bed is no easy task." Robb glanced at the rest of the boys. "Why is Lady Miranna here?"

"Miranna and I are drinking."

"I can see that, Theon." Robb sat down. He eyed Miranna, and she tilted her head in an attempt to understand what he was looking at. Was it her cheeks? They did feel quite hot. They must've been flushed by now.

"Can I help you, Lord Stark?" The words sounded more slurred than she'd intended.

"How many have you- how many has she had?" Robb turned to Theon.

"They're on their third round." The boy next to Miranna spoke up.

"Well, that means this'll be my _fourth_ glass!" She raised her cup to Theon. "To, to, to-"

"Drinking!" Theon finished. They attempted to smash their cups together, but completely missed. Robb took the opportunity to snatch Miranna's cup away from her.

"Robb," she whined. "I need that, or, or I'll lose." Theon had already started working on his cup.

"Don't worry, my lady, I'll drink it on your behalf. Besides, I'm not nearly drunk enough to enjoy this."

"Am I?"

"Drunk enough?" Miranna nodded earnestly. "More than enough, I'd reckon." Robb downed her cup in a matter of seconds.

"Am I really that drunk?"

"Theon's had more to drink, yet he's more sober than you. In all fairness, that's not saying much." Robb poured himself another cup of ale.

Miranna began to giggle. Gods, she hadn't giggled like this in  _ages._

"What are you laughing about?"

"Jaime warned me not to get too drunk tonight, yet here I am!" She slapped her hand on the table in her mirth.

The band changing their tune caught her attention. She turned around to see several people preparing to dance, gasping in delight. None of the lads around her seemed interested in the dance, so she nudged the one closest to her.

"You, what's your name?"

The boy she was referring to seemed to be about fourteen or fifteen. Tall, lanky, and petrified to have been addressed by her. "Dallin Poole, milady."

"Dallin, right, I would like for you to dance with me."

Dallin's face turned a deep shade of red. "Milady, I don't think-"

"I don't care what you _do_ think, Dallin. This is going to be my only opportunity to partake in a Northern dance or jig or, or what have you. So, as a guest of Winterfell, I insist." She rose on unsteady feet, instinctively grabbing onto the boy's shoulder for support.

Robb chuckled. "You'd best do as the Lady says, Dallin."

Miranna nodded her thanks to Robb as Dallin stood up and offered her his arm. She looped her arm through his, stumbled, and clutched it with her free hand as well. They made it over to the dancing without Miranna falling, somehow. Dallin, however, only stood still.

"You're going to have to show me how to do it properly, Dallin." The boy turned bright red, and attempted to stammer out a response. Miranna didn't catch any of it, but he still took her hand in his and led her into the mass of people.

The dance was nothing like those she'd taken part in back in King's Landing, though she'd never been this drunk during a dance. They switched partners in a similar fashion, however there was no time for formalities, as the partners changed too quickly. Before long, Miranna found herself back to Dallin, and the song had ended

"I'll take her from here, Dallin."

Miranna found herself unceremoniously handed off to Robb. She observed Dallin practically running back to his table as Theon's laughter seemed to fill up the hall.

"Did I frighten him?"

Robb laughed. "Just a bit, though I wouldn't be surprised if it's the Queen he's worried about. She looked like she was ready to murder you two."

"And so you came dashing over to rescue poor Dallin?" Miranna grinned.

"Yes, and to entertain you as a guest of Winterfell, if I remember your words correctly." Another lively song began. "Shall we?"

As much as Miranna preferred Robb as a dance partner, she couldn't say she preferred the new dance. There was a lot more spinning involved, first with Robb, and then more when she changed partners. By the time she made it back to Robb, Miranna could barely see straight. "Can we sit down again?"

Robb nodded. He guided her back across the hall, holding her up as best he could. When they sat down, she immediately rested her head in her hands, trying to stop the room from spinning.

"Would you like to go back to your chambers, Miranna?" Robb asked. She nodded, raising her head. Nothing sounded better than lying down on a bed and sleeping.

"I'll get her back!"

"No, Theon, you won't. I doubt you could get yourself to bed, much less Lady Miranna." Robb turned his attention to the other boys. "Can you make sure he ends up in his own bed?"

Dallin nodded. "Can't say it'll be his own bed, but we'll do our best."

"Thanks." Robb offered his hand to Miranna. "My lady."

She took it, grabbing onto his other arm for additional support, as she was still dizzy. "Thank you."

Together, they exited the hall into the courtyard. Miranna shivered, wishing she had her cloak. Winterfell had gotten much colder when the sun set. She had half a mind to ask Robb for his cloak before realizing he didn't have one either.

She noticed someone outside, striking a dummy with a sword. "Jon Snow?"

Jon turned around, looking a bit startled. "Lady Miranna! Robb." He paused, looking at them. "Are you two drunk?"

Miranna gave Jon a scandalized look. "Robb's not drunk! I'm the drunk one!"

"Just a bit." Miranna gazed at Robb in shock. "I had a few cups of ale, nothing to worry yourself over."

Jon chuckled. "Where are you off to now?"

"Taking her to bed so Theon doesn't get his hands on her."

"That's wise of you. Good night, then."

"Good night, Jon!" Miranna waved to him as Robb tugged her towards the guest house. "Why wasn't he at the feast?"

"My mother didn't want him there."

"I see," she said, but she really didn't understand. Her thoughts were a bit preoccupied on walking. The walk across the courtyard was longer than Miranna remembered. Memories and thoughts in general were muddied at the moment.

Robb guided her into the guest house. "Where am I taking you?"

"There's stairs at the end of the corridor."

"I don't trust you on stairs." Before she realized what was happening, Robb scooped Miranna up in a bridal carry.

It took all of Miranna's remaining self-control to keep herself from yelping in surprise. "Robb! Put me down!" She hissed, not wanting to disturb Myrcella and Tommen.

"I'd rather not get pulled down the stairs when you fall. Besides, this is faster."

"Well, _I_ don't trust _you_ to get me up the stairs safely! You said you were drunk."

"I know my limit, unlike some people."

Miranna gasped. "I'm not at my limit! I was still walking!"

"Hardly." Miranna smacked his chest. "Alright, maybe I deserved that. Don't squirm now, I don't want to drop you." He began climbing the stairs, Miranna sulking the whole way up.

Robb set her down once they'd reached the top, and Miranna defiantly used the wall for support as she walked to her chambers. She could feel the ale beginning to wear off, for which she was grateful. She wouldn't want to fall flat on her face the moment she claimed she hadn't reached her limit.

Miranna entered her chambers, surprised to find candles already lit. Robb stopped at the doorway.

"Will you be alright, my lady?"

She nodded, feeling sleepy now that she was near a bed. At that moment, Miranna remembered she was wearing a dress, not her night clothes. "Actually, would you mind unlacing me?" She sat on the edge of her bed, turning her back to Robb. He made no response, nor did she hear footsteps leading away from her door. She looked back to see him standing perfectly still. "Robb?"

Robb gave his head a small shake before walking towards her. "Yes, of course." He began undoing the cords Jaime had tugged into place only hours earlier, though so gently Miranna hardly felt his hands. She wished he would hurry up just a bit so she could curl up under the furs and sleep. "Done."

"Thank you." Miranna turned back around, making sure to hold the front of her bodice up.

Robb was already at the door. "Goodnight, my lady."

Miranna yawned. "Goodnight, Lord Stark."

With one slow blink, he was gone, and her door was shut. Miranna fumbled her way out of her dress and into her sleeping gown, not bothering to take her hair down. Fryda could take care of that in the morning. Miranna crawled under the furs, closed her eyes, and quickly gave in to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter ended up being even longer than the last one :/ Whoops. I hope you enjoyed nevertheless!  
> When I post the next chapter, I'm going to move the story before the line break to the previous chapter, as I think it'll flow better. I'll make sure to add another note at the beginning when I do so.  
> Also not important whatsoever but I'm binge watching Game of Thrones and got to the Red Wedding...needless to say I am in mourning. If you read this far, congrats. You win nothing but my congratulations, but still, that's something.


	6. V: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranna and Robb learn they are betrothed.

"My lady, you _must_ get up. I've run a bath for you."

Miranna groaned, opening her eyes and squeezing them shut at the bright morning light. "Thank you, Fryda." She managed to sit upright, stretching her arms above her head and sighing in relief.

"If you didn't want to take your hair down last night, you should have had me come do it for you," Fryda fretted. Her fingers made quick work of the pins holding her hair up.

"I was too tired."

"That didn't stop you from getting your dress off."

"I had help with that." Miranna gasped in embarrassment, only just remembering Robb and the events of the previous night.

"Are you alright, my lady?" Fryda looked a bit startled herself.

"I'm fine, I just..." Miranna sighed. "I have some apologies to make regarding my behavior last night."

Fryda adopted a mischievous grin on her lips. "Don't tell me you found a handsome boy and-"

"No! Nothing like that. Forget I said anything." Miranna stood, wrapping her dressing gown around her. "I think I'll have that bath now."

* * *

Miranna never enjoyed breaking her fast with her family. As a girl at Casterly Rock, she was always expected to be present, even though her father rarely made an appearance. She avoided eating with the royal family in King's Landing, as it usually ended with Cersei and Robert bickering, or Joffrey making fun of Tommen or Myrcella, though they never seemed to realize it. As a guest of the Starks, she didn't want to be bothersome by requesting her first meal in her chambers, so she trudged into the dining hall of the guest house, freshly washed.

"Is your hair damp?" Of course Cersei would notice something to comment on before she'd even sat down.

"Yes, Fryda was kind enough to draw a bath for me. And you know my hair's never been quick to dry." Miranna gave a tight smile to her sister before busying herself with food. She did her best to ignore what was being said, concentrating instead on eating as quickly as she could without Cersei noticing.

"Oh, Miranna, I'd nearly forgotten; Robert said he has some business to discuss with you as soon as possible." Cersei gave a smirk as she took a bite of bread.

"What sort of business?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Jaime said. Apparently his warning last night had more to it than he'd claimed. "I believe he's somewhere in the castle."

Miranna narrowed her eyes. Whatever Jaime and Cersei weren't telling her was amusing to them, which didn't bode well for her. She excused herself and proceeded towards the castle. One of the servants was able to direct her towards the King's whereabouts.

"Lady Miranna."

Miranna winced, turning towards Robb. "Lord Stark."

He offered a polite smile. "What brings you into the castle?"

"I'm to meet with the King." She paused to look down towards her feet. "I should also apologize to you about my behavior last night. I should have found my handmaiden to help me. That, and I shouldn't have gotten so drunk in the first place. I don't think I referred to you as Lord half the time, and-"

"It's alright, really." Miranna looked at him, uncertain if he was truly forgiving. "I forgot to call you Lady as much as you forgot to call me Lord. I'll take no offense so long as you don't either."

Miranna smiled, relieved. "I suppose I can live with that. For now, I must be on my way."

Robb continued to walk next to her. "I'm heading this way myself. I need to speak with my father in his study."

"I'm speaking to the King in your father's study." Miranna's eyes met Robb's, finding similar confusion in his expression. "Perhaps they're upset with how much we drank last night?"

A sharp laugh came out of Robb, and Miranna found herself relaxing. "I wasn't the one who could barely walk."

"I suppose I can take the blame. I am but a girl who likes to drink a bit too much. Even the King can't argue with that!" She stopped as Robb knocked on a door.

"Come in!" Both King Robert and Ned Stark were seated at Ned's desk. Miranna and Robb stood across from them. Robert already had a cup of ale at the ready. "Gods, you two took ages."

"Apologies, your grace, but I had to break fast with my sister. I'm afraid she insisted." Robert grunted in response, probably thankful that he hadn't been present. "May I ask what business you have to discuss with me?"

"We might as well get on with it. Lady Miranna, I'm acting in your father's place to tell you that you've been betrothed to Robb Stark of Winterfell."

"And as your father, Robb, I am informing you that you've been betrothed to Miranna Lannister of Casterly Rock."

Miranna stood in shocked silence. Surely, there had to be a mistake. Betrothals almost never occurred with both parties present. "Did my father-"

"A raven was received from him early this morning giving his permission." Lord Stark handed a scroll to Miranna, who only glanced at it to ensure that it was indeed her father's handwriting. "Neither Tywin nor I harbor any strong objections to this betrothal. Do either of you have any objections?"

"No," Robb said. Miranna couldn't detect any particular emotion in his response.

"No." She truly had no objections. Robb was handsome, was to be the Warden of the North one day, and had seemed pleasant enough in the short period of time she'd known him, though she knew that could change the longer she knew him.

"Good. I've got a hunt to get to, and I expect to see you on a horse before I finish my second helping of ale!" King Robert clapped Ned on the shoulder before leaving the study.

Lord Stark rose as well. "Lady Miranna, your belongings will be moved into the castle. You'll have your own chambers there."

Miranna felt a pang of anxiety in her chest. "I'm not going back to King's Landing?" She had a few trusted friends in King's Landing she hadn't gotten to say goodbye to, not to mention some belongings she'd left behind.

"The King felt it would be best if you remained up here in the hopes that a wedding would follow. You two have nothing to worry about for many months, as I don't intend to leave King's Landing the moment I've set foot in it."

_So he did accept Robert's proposal._

"Congratulations on your new position, Lord Stark."

Ned nodded his thanks. "Robb, you ought to show her around Winterfell. Might as well start getting to know the place. And each other." Ned sat down and began to sort through documents.

Robb gave a nod that was identical to his father's, and opened the door. Miranna stepped outside, still ruminating over the betrothal. She followed Robb as he started down the corridor.

"Are you unhappy?"

Miranna met Robb's eyes for a moment before looking away. "Not at all. Are you?"

"No." He studied her face. "Are you sure?"

Miranna realized she'd been biting her lip. "I'm sorry, I'm just thinking."

"About what?" Miranna looked up to meet his eyes, holding his gaze this time. "If we are to be married someday, I should know when you're bothered by something." He gave her a gentle smile, which she returned.

"That's very kind of you. I'm just thinking about my father's role in all this."

Robb furrowed his brow. "Well, he gave his agreement to the betrothal."

"I surmised as much, though it seemed as if King Robert had arranged this."

"Perhaps he did."

Miranna shook her head. "I know my father better than most people, save for my siblings. He must have had this planned out weeks, if not years, before I ever set foot in Winterfell." She fell silent, gazing at the old stone of the walls and floor. "Enough about that. What's done is done, no matter how it came to be." Miranna quickened her pace so she could get in front of Robb. "I'd like to go to Winter Town."

Robb gave an amused chuckle. "You don't want to see the castle?"

"I do, but I'll have years to explore it with or without you. Gods know when I'll be able to go into Winter Town next."

"Very well, then." He guided her out of the castle, where what looked to be a young dog waited patiently.

"Who's this?" Miranna knelt down, holding her hand out to the dog. The dog sniffed her before allowing her to pet it.

"My direwolf, Grey Wind."

"Direwolf?!" Miranna looked back at Robb to make sure he wasn't lying.

"We found a litter of them in the woods a month ago. Each of my siblings got to raise one."

Miranna turned her attention back to the direwolf. "I've never seen one before, and now I'm petting one." She chuckled, still in disbelief. "I take it he doesn't bite?"

"Only when I want him to."

"Oh?" Miranna stood, raising her eyebrows. "I suppose I have you to thank for my life, then?"

Robb chuckled. "No, but you shouldn't count on every direwolf to behave. Rickon's is still a wild thing, just like him."

Miranna nodded, a smile on her face. "I'll make sure to take care around them." Robb smiled back at her, and she herself growing fonder of him by the second.

"We should get to Winter Town before we lose the day, my lady."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to god I've done more research for this fanfic than I've ever done for school. I keep looking up random stuff that doesn't even matter but I don't know I feel accomplished for doing so anyway lol.  
> Thanks for reading!


	7. VI: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranna and Robb converse during their stroll through Winter Town.

Winter Town was a bit more like King's Landing, in that there were merchants advertising their wares, yet it was still far quieter than what Miranna was used to. She had to admit, it smelled far more pleasant than the markets in the capital. There was no stench of piss, shit, or rotted meat, at least not where she and Robb were walking. He'd guided her along the main road that went through the little town, and she observed several farmers with wagons full of goods arrive and depart during their walk. Miranna also noted that there were more buildings, as opposed to tents or simple stalls, which she attributed to the colder weather. Still, several people had set up outside their shops to better attract patrons before the next winter came.

Grey Wind had ended up accompanying Miranna and Robb into Winter Town, and as rare as Miranna felt direwolves were, the townsfolk scarcely gave him a glance. For as young as he looked, Grey Wind was well behaved. Miranna decided to purchase a few scraps of meat from the butcher to drop for him as they walked along.

"Careful you don't spoil him!" Robb joked.

Miranna smirked. "I won't, no need to fret. I know a thing or two about being spoiled myself, and a few bits of mutton aren't going to spoil your precious wolf." She tossed another piece into the air, and laughed in delight when Grey Wind snapped it up before it hit the ground.

"Growing up in Casterly Rock with Tywin Lannister. I can't imagine him near children. How  _did_  you manage?"

Miranna shrugged. "He was always so stern with me. When I'd cry in front of him, he'd just lecture me about saving face and maintaining appearances. He didn't realize that some of the servants would buy me a new doll or dress to keep me happy until he entered my chambers for the first time. I had twenty dolls by then!"

"Twenty?" Robb shook his head in disbelief. "Were you really that unhappy?"

"Oh, no. Not at all. I'd learned that if I cried, I'd get a present. I was perfectly happy until father caught on. I'm surprised he didn't figure it out sooner. Twenty dolls in a matter of months is no small fee."

Robb let out a chuckle. "And when you were an infant, did he lecture you when you cried?"

"I didn't live with him then." Miranna glanced up at Robb, noting his confused expression. "I grew up in Stonehelm, with my mother's family, until my father decided I wouldn't be too bothersome to care for. I think I was about four years old by then."

"Stonehelm. Which House is that?"

"House Swann. My mother was Lady Arenna Swann before she married my father."

"I see." Robb watched as Grey Wind caught another piece of mutton. "Is that why you're so much younger than the rest of your siblings? Because your father didn't remarry until after Robert's Rebellion?"

Miranna cocked her head. "Yes. I keep forgetting that it caused quite the uproar at the time."

"How so?"

"Tywin's love for his first wife was legendary. Most thought he'd never remarry. He had a change of heart when the King failed to trust him completely, so he married the daughter of a Baratheon bannerman." Miranna stopped to observe a few children playing with a hoop and stick. Their laughter rang high and clear across the road. "He also wanted another heir. A proper heir, as he'd say. My mother died after birthing me, he didn't bother with remarrying again, and so I became the youngest Lannister." The children disappeared down an alley, and Miranna continued her stroll. "Enough about my childhood. What were you like as a young boy?"

Robb took a deep breath. "I don't know where to start. For a long time, it was just Jon and I, and we were quite the troublemakers."

"No, you and Jon Snow? I can't believe that." Miranna did her best to picture young Robb and Jon, but it was difficult to imagine them as anything other than the somewhat serious young men they'd become.

"We once dumped a mountain of snow on a house guard—he was old and fat, and we knew he couldn't catch us." He chuckled at the memory as Miranna laughed. "I think we did just about everything together, even training at arms. When Theon came to live at Winterfell, he joined us as well. We'd ride, dine, and fight together, day in and day out. I don't believe there was ever a dull moment, save for Maester Luwin's lessons."

"Growing up with so many siblings and playmates sounds like it was lovely," Miranna said wistfully.

"It was," Robb mused. He met Miranna's eyes for a moment before looking ahead to Grey Wind. "Didn't you have serving girls or boys to entertain you?"

Miranna bit her lip, a far away look in her eyes. "Not really. I was too sick to play in Stonehelm, and my father made it clear that I was not to spend more time with the common folk than was necessary." She blinked a few times, focusing again on the road before her, and on tossing Grey Wind another scrap of meat. "You've got me talking about myself again, when I intended for you to speak! What of your sisters? You've hardly said a word about them."

Robb gave a fond smile. "I think you learned all you need to know about them at the feast last night."

"I sincerely doubt that."

"Well, Arya's always been a bit of a ruffian, trying to join us in training and hunting. We've certainly had our fun with her. She was quite fun to run around with, even when she was barely able to walk." Grey Wind trotted over to his master, who leaned down to scratch him behind his ears. "Sansa may not agree, as we all bothered her more than she deserved. She hasnt known a day of peace since Arya came along."

Miranna laughed at that, and as Robb joined in, hearty and loud, she couldn't keep herself from hoping that this betrothal would result in the marriage she'd dreamed of as a little girl. Her father always said hope was a powerful weapon when one knew how to wield it, so she'd lived her life tamping down hope in order to keep herself from being broken-hearted or disappointed. But this hope was bolstered by something tangible, though it was nothing she could name yet.

"Is that all there is to Lord Robb Stark?"

He gave her a soft smile. "You already know all the rest: I'm the eldest Stark son, heir to the Warden of the North, and betrothed to Lady Miranna Lannister. There's not much else to me yet."

Miranna looked away from him, a smile still present on her lips, and tossed Grey Wind the last of the mutton. "Lord Stark, I don't know about your parents, but my father did not marry my mother for love. We're not marrying for love either, but perhaps we could." She glanced at him, satisfied with the fond look on his face. She looped her arm through his. "Come. We should get a proper meal in before it's too late."

* * *

 They had barely set foot inside the castle gates when a guardsman approached them. "Lord Stark, it's your brother, Bran. He's fallen from the Broken Tower."

Miranna felt her insides grow cold with dread. "What?"

"Is he alright?" Robb's voice was steady, for now. The guardsman didn't answer, a grave look adorning his features. "Take me to him." He looked down towards Miranna, but didn't meet her gaze.

"Go, you should be with him. I have plenty to attend to for myself." She watched Robb walk away, Grey Wind by his side, and she prayed to all the Gods she could think of that the boy would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the plot will kick in soon! The next chapter will be another (sort of) filler chapter before things really get going. I hope you guys still enjoy!


	8. VII: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa pays Miranna a visit, Miranna says farewell to her family and runs into Robb.

Mere hours had passed since Miranna first heard the news. She hadn't heard anything more, not even when Lord Stark returned from hunting with the King. She did her best to distract herself from assuming the worst, drifting about the castle and her new chambers. Her new quarters were larger than what she'd had in the guest house, but Miranna didn't think the room was too large. She was near Sansa and Arya, though they would be leaving for King's Landing as soon as Bran's condition became certain.

 _They leave for my home, and I stay in theirs._ Miranna sighed, envisioning both girls packing trunks as she unpacked hers. She hadn't brought much, as she'd assumed she would be returning home. A few dresses, her red gown, cloak, riding gloves, dressing gown, sleep clothes, and several books, most of which she'd finished during the journey to Winterfell. She carefully placed them on the table across from her bed, hoping that the Winterfell library had something interesting.

Three light knocks at the door caught her attention. "Come in!" Miranna was surprised to see Sansa Stark enter, a bundle of dresses in her arms. The girl's eyes were rimmed with red. "Lady Sansa, what brings you here?"

"I found some old dresses while I was packing, and I thought you might like to have them." She laid the pile on Miranna's bed. "I'm too tall for them now, but they might fit you."

Miranna gave Sansa a kind smile. "Thank you. Are you certain Arya wont need them?"

"She's too small yet, and they're not suitable for King's Landing." Sansa turned to leave.

"Shall we look through them together?" Miranna blurted out. "If you're not still packing, that is."

Sansa nodded, the ghost of a smile gracing her features. "I've finished. I don't think Arya's even begun." The poor girl was probably grateful for the distraction.

"Right, now let's see," Miranna murmured. She pulled out a plain dress in a shade of Tully blue. "This looks lovely. Did you do the embroidery on the cuffs?"

"No, I think my mother did. I wasn't skilled enough when this was made." Sansa held the dress up to Miranna. "It brings out the blue in your eyes. You must keep it!"

Miranna chuckled. "I think I will. It feels much warmer than what I've brought with me." She picked through the dresses until one caught her eye. It was made of satin in a beautiful silver grey color. Miranna admired the dark grey embroidery on the sleeves, bodice, and skirt. "Sansa, this is  _beautiful."_

Sansa beamed. "I wore this for my eleventh name day, and for as many events as I could after that. I remember I was so sad when I grew out of it." She ran a hand along the fabric. "These will be your house colors someday. Are you excited?"

"Excited? I...I'm not sure. I'm a bit nervous, that much I know for certain. I did talk with your brother earlier today, and that put my mind at ease somewhat."

"Do you love him?"

Miranna laughed softly. "Sansa, it's a bit early for me to love him already. I hardly know him yet!"

"Well, I think you should know by now. I know I love Joffrey, and I haven't even gotten to talk to him."

"You won't know for certain until you get to know him properly."

Sansa gave Miranna a slight glare. "I don't need to get to know him to know I love him. He'll be king someday, and I know I'll be happy as his queen, no matter what!"

Miranna opened her mouth to argue, but bit her tongue, remembering the hardship Sansa and her family were going through, and that Sansa was still only a girl. Instead, she held the gown against herself. "I may have to hem it, just a little. How were you taller than me at eleven?"

Sansa laughed softly. "I've always been tall, I can't help it."

"No more than I can help it that I am not, I suppose." Miranna heaved a sigh, feigning disappointment. "Shall we see how many more I will have to hem?"

There were seven dresses in total, and by the time the girls had finished admiring them and finding the ones that needed altering, the sky had turned orange with the sunset.

"Goodness, the time has passed quickly! Shall we go to dinner?" Miranna stood, placing the dress she held on her bed. "I'm sure the hunting party brought back some delicious game."

Sansa shook her head. "I'm not hungry."

"I don't have much of an appetite either, but we must carry on. For your brother's sake." Sansa nodded at that, and Miranna smiled in relief. She accompanied Sansa out the door and down the hall.

"Shouldn't you be eating with your family?"

Miranna glanced up at Sansa, her face showing genuine confusion. "To be honest, I'd rather have you as company while I eat. I've had plenty of meals with my brothers and sister, and I'd like at least one more with you before you leave." She paused, gazing down a passing corridor. "Besides, I need to learn where everything is in this castle. Who better to show me than you?"

The smile on Sansa's face, no matter how small, reassured Miranna that she was helping the girl forget her brother's condition, if only for the duration of a conversation and a meal.

* * *

 If there was one thing Miranna wouldn't miss about her family, it would be eating meals with them, a fact she was reminded of a fortnight after the boy's fall.

"What do you mean Fryda isn't staying here?"

Cersei gave Miranna a calculated look. "Winterfell has plenty of its own handmaidens, and Fryda has no reason to remain here. Her family is in King's Landing, as are her employers."

Miranna silently fumed beside her sister. "Was she given a choice?"

"No, but neither were you."

"When will we see you again?" Little Myrcella, ever the peacekeeper. Miranna _would_ miss her niece and nephew dearly.

"I'm afraid it won't be for several months." Miranna leaned past her sister to get a better view of Myrcella. "The next time you see me will be my wedding day, right here in the sept."

"Why not the Sept of Baelor? It's much larger." Tommen looked to be genuinely confused.

"She's marrying a Northerner, Tommen, so she must accommodate him, not the other way round." Jaime took a long draw from his cup. "I wouldn't be surprised if your Aunt was worshiping the Old Gods when we see her next."

Miranna clenched her fists. "Can't we have one meal that is pleasant?"

"I'm not sure what you mean," Jaime said in a tone that showed he knew exactly what she meant. 

"This is the last I'll be seeing of my siblings for quite some time. I'd like to think fondly of you both, not remember your snide remarks."

Tyrion's voice carried into the room, signaling his approach.

"Speaking of snide remarks," Cersei muttered.

"Bread, and two of those little fish. And a mug of dark beer to wash it down! And bacon, burnt black." Tyrion playfully scooted Tommen over on his bench, much to the boy's delight. Miranna's face mirrored Jaime's amused one.

"Little brother."

"Beloved siblings," Tyrion responded. Cersei managed to lift the corners of her mouth in greeting.

"Is Bran going to die?" Myrcella's soft voice was filled with concern.

Tyrion took a bite of bread. "Apparently not." Miranna took some small appreciation in her eldest sibling's wary expressions.

"What do you mean?" Cersei asked, tilting her head.

"The Maester said the boy may live."

"I could have told you as much." Jaime and Cersei shared a look before turning their attention on Miranna. "I paid Lord and Lady Stark another visit last night and learned the good news."

Jaime studied Miranna's face. "Why not tell us this good news? Save us all the trouble of worrying for the boy's sake?"

"The same reason you failed to inform me I was betrothed to Robb Stark." Miranna took a sip from her cup. "The satisfaction of knowing something you don't." She smirked at him, relishing her small victory.

"You would have saved the children hours of worrying." Cersei stated. She looked back to Tyrion. "It's no mercy, letting a child linger in such pain."

"Only the gods know for certain. All the rest of us can do is pray." He reached for some bacon. "The charms of the North are entirely lost on you."

"I still can't believe you're going," Cersei said in a disinterested tone.

Miranna took that as her cue to leave, sensing unnecessary bickering on the horizon. She rose, making her way around the table.

"What, leaving already? Are you so ready to be rid of us?" Tyrion downed the bacon in his hands. "I've only just arrived."

"I'll see you on your way back from the Wall. We'll have a proper goodbye then. As for the rest of you," Miranna flashed warm smiles at Myrcella and Tommen, "I look forward to the next time we meet again. Goodbye."

A chorus of farewells emanated from the table. Only Myrcella and Tommen looked genuinely saddened to see her go. Tyrion, being the only one with a reason not to look unhappy at their departure, looked more melancholy than either Jaime or Cersei. Miranna didn't mind. Her eldest siblings had never been her favorite, always seeing her as a child, never an equal as their sister and Lannister. It was a quality that had been acceptable when Miranna was a child, and yet only Tyrion had grown out of the habit of excluding her from conversations and family duties.

Miranna left the hall feeling half anxious, half irritated. It was a good thing, then, that she knew her way to the stables quite well by now.

She entered, the familiar smell of hay and horses greeting her. "Hodor?" she called out.

"Hodor!" The man himself emerged from the back of the stables. During her two weeks at Winterfell, Miranna had learned that Jon was not the stable boy, only expected to help when he was needed. When she'd first met Hodor, she'd been frightened by his size alone before realizing he was simple, and quite harmless. He'd taken good care of her horse, which was all she could ask for.

"Hodor, I need you to saddle Arenna for me. Mine's the one with the red leather." She'd always wanted a plain saddle, yet her father had insisted that if she were to have a saddle, it would reflect her family in some way. The result was a saddle of red leather and gold stitching.

"Hodor," Hodor affirmed. He grabbed the saddle from the wall and began to ready her horse.

Miranna absentmindedly stroked Arenna's mane as he worked. When he finished, he offered his knee for her to climb into the saddle, which she accepted. "Thank you, Hodor. I'll be back soon."

"Hodor."

Miranna had Arenna walk out of the stables so she wouldn't disrupt the rest of the bustle in the courtyard. The departure of the royal family and Lord Stark had just about everyone in Winterfell doing some sort of work. Miranna only hoped her ride would be long enough to miss everyone leaving. She was nearly out of the courtyard when she was interrupted.

"Lady Miranna?" Her head swiveled until she found the source of the voice. Her betrothed, Robb Stark, strode over to her. They hadn't had a proper conversation together since their trip into Winter Town. He had been too busy with his family, and she had been doing her best to get to know Winterfell. "Where are you going?"

"For a ride in the Godswood. Riding always seems to clear my mind." She gazed down at him, a polite smile crossing her lips. "What about you?"

"I'm saying goodbye to Jon. He's leaving for the Wall today." Robb sounded glum.

"I did hear he was taking the black," Miranna mused. "Please give him my best for me."

"You could tell him yourself. I'm sure he won't be too difficult to find."

"I'm sure he wouldn't be, however, I think Arenna will throw me if I don't take her out now. She's been kept in the stables a fortnight, and now that she's finally out..." Miranna trailed off, earning a chuckle from Robb. "Give him my best, and tell him we'll be visiting soon."

"We?" Miranna nodded. "The Wall is no place for a woman, Miranna."

"I don't plan on taking the black! Besides, between you, Jon, and the guards that I presume would accompany us, I'd be completely safe."

Robb shook his head slowly, a small smile on his face. "Be careful on your ride." He began walking towards the stables, most likely to look for Jon.

"It's only the Godswood, there's no way I can get lost." Miranna chuckled to herself for a moment. "We must go for a ride together soon," she called to him.

"Aye, we'll have plenty of days for that, my lady."

Miranna watched him as he walked away, before guiding Arenna into the Godswood. She dug her heels into the horse's sides, and she was off, all thoughts of her family and the Starks absent from her mind. The only thing she focused on was the fresh, cold smell of the air, the trees surrounding her, and Arenna.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi not that this matters in the slightest, as this is a fanfic, but I'm using the book as a gauge for how much time has passed between events, in case any of you want to know to help with your own GoT fics, if you have them. I feel like I'm taking this a little too seriously, but then I remember I'm doing this because I enjoy it, and if you guys also enjoy it, that's even better. Thanks for reading!


	9. VIII: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranna looks after Rickon and is witness to an assassination attempt.

Miranna crossed the courtyard, following the sounds of crying. In the week that had passed since the King had departed Winterfell, little Rickon had grown quite sorrowful, following his brother around and sobbing, for his mother hadn't left Bran's side. Robb was doing his best to run the castle, and Miranna tried her best to keep Rickon occupied and cared for.

She'd taken to wearing the dresses Sansa had left her, as they were warmer and allowed her more time outdoors with the boy. Today she'd donned a brown dress that was plain, but functional for leading around a six year old boy for a few hours.

She spied Robb speaking to Ser Rodrik, Rickon clinging to his cloak, and approached them. "Pardon me, Lord Stark, Ser Rodrik. Rickon," she knelt down to the boy's height. "Shall we take Shaggydog out for a walk in the Godswood?" Rickon shook his head, burying his face in his brother's cloak. "We can take a horse so he can get a proper run in." At that, Rickon released Robb and took Miranna's outstretched hand. Robb nodded his thanks, continuing his conversation with Ser Rodrik.

"Have you learned to ride yet?" Rickon shook his head. "That's alright, there's room enough on the saddle for two." She walked him to the stables, where Hodor saddled Arenna, and then they were off, Shaggydog just behind them.

In the Godswood, she had Arenna canter through the trees until Rickon giggled in delight, and she laughed as well. Shaggydog ran just as fast as the horse, and soon Grey Wind and Summer had joined him, the three direwolves snapping at each other's legs playfully. They had grown nearly twice their size since Miranna had first seen them. After what felt like hours of riding, Miranna guided Arenna to the weirwood tree, so all the animals could have a drink before they went back.

"We'll let Arenna rest for a moment, and then we should get in for dinner." Miranna smiled down at Rickon, where he sat on a large stone.

The boy had his direwolf's head on his knee, scratching behind his ears. "How much longer until Bran's better?"

Miranna bit her lip for a moment, kneeling down to pet Summer. "I can't say. The Maester thinks it'll be soon, though."

"I want Father to come back. And Sansa, and Arya." Fresh tears welled in Rickon's eyes. "I want them home."

"I know, but your father has duties in King's Landing. You'll be able to see him again soon."

"I don't want it to be soon! I want them home now!" he cried.

Miranna's heart ached for the boy's sake. She leaned over, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "There, there. I know it's difficult, but Bran will be awake before you know it, and your mother will be able to take care of you again. You know she loves you dearly, right?" Rickon shook his head, swiping angrily at his tears. "She does, she's just more worried about Bran right now because of his fall. She knows you can take care of yourself while she takes care of him. Do you understand?" Miranna grasped the boy's shoulders. "She doesn't love you any less, I promise. Do you hear me?"

Rickon said nothing, but bit his lip and nodded.

"Good. Let's get back, and perhaps we can bring your mother something to eat."

* * *

Rickon had been put to bed by Old Nan before he and Miranna had time to bring a meal to his mother, so Miranna approached the room herself to ask if Lady Stark would eat something. She'd heard that whether or not the woman would eat a meal varied drastically from day to day, meal to meal, and that there was no point in wasting food if she refused to eat it in the first place.

Maester Luwin passed her, most likely leaving Bran's quarters. He gave a somber nod in greeting, which Miranna reciprocated. As she got closer, Miranna could hear Robb's voice, low and serious. "Rickon needs you. He's six. He doesn't know what's happening, he follows me around all day, clutching my leg, crying! He doesn't understand why Miranna has been caring for him more than his own mother."

She stepped into the room, pretending not to have heard Robb's words. "My lord, my lady." She raised her voice a bit, as the direwolves were barking and howling outside. "I was wondering if you'd like me to bring you something to eat, Lady Stark."

Robb gave Miranna a small smile. "Thank you, Mir-"

"Close the windows, I can't stand it! Make them stop! _Please_ , make them stop." Miranna could feel the sorrow and despair radiating from Lady Stark, and it broke her heart.

Robb was silent at the window, staring at something. "Fire," he said, voice shaking. Whether it was from fear or anger, Miranna couldn't tell. "You stay here, I'll come back!" With that, he ran from the room.

Lady Stark set her prayer wheel down, and walked to the window. Miranna followed closely behind, should she fall. She was able to peer over Lady Stark's shoulder and catch a glimpse of the fire for herself. It wasn't out of control, but it was large enough to cause alarm. When Lady Stark turned away from the window, Miranna stepped closer, trying to see what was happening below.

"You're not supposed to be here." A quiet voice, not Lady Stark's, and not of any man Miranna knew. She spun around to see a hooded man staring at Lady Stark and herself. "No one's supposed to be here." He looked towards Bran, Lady Stark's head following his line of sight. "It's a mercy. He's dead already." He unsheathed a dagger, and moved towards the two women.

"No!" Lady Stark ran towards him, but he grabbed her by the arm and struck her across the face, throwing her onto the bed. He yanked her up by the hair, and tried to bring the dagger to her throat. Lady Stark stopped the blade with her own hands, drawing blood.

Miranna could only stand still, frozen in fear. Her breathing quickened, and all she wanted to do was run out of the room, but she could do nothing.

Lady Stark bit the man's hand, ending their tense deadlock. He shouted in pain, shoving her away from him and moving towards Bran with heaving breaths.

"Stop!" Miranna screamed. Before she knew what was happening, her legs carried her in front of the assassin in an attempt to shield Bran from him. He seized her by the neckline of her dress and slapped her face hard enough that her head whipped to the side, hurting her neck. He then shoved her behind him with such force that when she hit the floor, all the air was expelled from her lungs, and she could do no more than lie there, flat on her back, and try to gasp for breath.

For a moment, Miranna believed that the boy was as good as dead. Then, Summer leaped over her, attacking the man. He screamed as the direwolf mauled him, screams that descended into gurgles as his throat was torn out.

Miranna finally took a wheezing breath, not fully believing the events that had taken place moments ago. After she caught her breath, she sat up gingerly. The man's head was next to her feet. Blood still oozed from his neck. Miranna felt lightheaded, though she wasn't sure if it was due to the carnage before her or the realization of how much danger she, Bran, and Lady Stark had been in.

It was then that she remembered Lady Stark. The woman was leaning against the bed, her bloodied hands in front of her. She was watching Summer, who'd climbed beside Bran on the bed.

"Lady Stark," Miranna began. Her voice was barely above a whisper. She took a shaky breath. "I'm going to find help. Stay here."

The woman said nothing, and gave no indication that she'd even heard Miranna. 

Miranna stood, using the bed as support, and staggered out the door, into the corridor. If there was one man she needed, it was Maester Luwin, to care for Lady Stark's injuries. In a daze, she walked back in the direction she had come in, where she thought the Maester might be. Robb found her before she'd even passed two doors.

"Miranna?"

"Robb!" Relieved tears sprang into her eyes, and she let out a choked sob. She would have sunk to the ground had Robb not caught her by the shoulders.

"What happened?" Robb sounded terrified, more terrified than when he'd first learned of Bran's fall. "Is Bran alright?"

Miranna nodded, swiping at the tears on her face. "A, a man...Summer killed him before he could-" she cut herself off with a sob.

Robb pulled her to his chest in an embrace, sighing in relief. "And my mother?"

Miranna pulled away, wiping at her tears. "She's hurt. She needs the Maester!"

Robb nodded gravely, taking Miranna by the hand and leading her back into Bran's quarters. Not a soul in the room had moved. Not Lady Stark, not Bran, not Summer, and not the assassin.

"Mother?" Robb knelt down next to Lady Stark, who turned to her son.

"He tried to kill Bran," she murmured.

"Bran's alive." Robb took his mother's hands in his own, examining the gashes.

"He's lucky she was here," Miranna croaked. "And Summer."

Robb stood. "I'll have Maester Luwin come look at your hands." He looked at Miranna, standing against the door frame. "And your cheek."

As he brushed past her, she prodded at the sore part of her face, wincing.  _I could've fought harder against him. I've only got a bruise, while Lady Stark has slashes across her fingers._

Something about that was wrong.

Miranna furrowed her brow, feeling some lucidity return to her mind.The man could have easily slit her throat when he grabbed her, yet he didn't. He hadn't hesitated to attempt to cut Lady Stark's throat. Why not hers?

The only conclusion Miranna could make in her current state was that the man was acting with the Lannisters' best interests in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god that was so much fun to write! I hope you guys enjoyed it too!


	10. IX: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranna reveals her suspicions to Lady Stark.

Miranna hadn't been able to sleep much in the days that followed the attack. She'd doze off until she was woken by nightmares of the assassin cutting her throat. When she wasn't half-asleep, she contemplated her family's role in the entire ordeal. She'd come to the conclusion that one of her siblings must be involved, as a purse full of silver had been found hidden beneath the hay in the stable. None of their soldiers would pay so much to hide a secret, nor did any of them have a reputation they were willing to kill over. And if her siblings wanted to kill an unconscious child, then they must have been behind his fall as well.

Of her siblings, only Cersei and Jaime truly cared what others thought of them. Miranna shuddered at the thought of either of them wishing a child dead. Cersei loved her children more than anything, and Jaime loved his niece and nephews as much as Tyrion or Miranna, if not more. Perhaps that love did not extend to the children of other women, especially when their reputations were at stake. She remembered the looks on their faces when they'd learned that Bran would survive. While she'd mistaken their expressions as uncertain, she now knew they were wary. Whether or not they were both responsible for the boy's fall, Miranna could not tell. One thing was for certain—whoever was responsible had confided in the other, as there was no one the twins trusted more than each other.

As her new handmaid, Alis, braided her hair away from her face, Miranna examined her face in the mirror. The mark on her cheek had turned from bright red, to deep purple, to a sickly yellow-green. She pressed a finger to it, grimacing at the pain. The pain in her neck had subsided, though a dull ache persisted when she turned her head too far to the left, and as far as Maester Luwin could tell, she had not been injured in her fall, aside from minor bruising on her back.

She couldn't help but think of Lady Stark's hands, of how the woman had barely escaped death herself. Miranna felt guilty for not having been the recipient of similar injuries, but it only strengthened her belief that a Lannister was behind this. It was nearing midday already when she decided she must confess her suspicions to Lady Stark.

Old Nan informed her that Lady Stark was in the Godswood. Miranna was surprised that the woman had left her son's side. Perhaps she'd also become suspicious of her family, which Miranna couldn't fault her for. She headed straight for the weirwood, for if Lady Stark was still in the Godswood, that was where she'd be.

Lady Stark was in front of the weirwood, but she wasn't alone. Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik, Theon, and Robb stood in a circle, speaking in hushed voices. They fell silent at Miranna's approaching footsteps, turning to see who was interrupting them. Every single person stared at her with disdain, even Robb and Lady Stark. Miranna had half a mind to turn around and walk back into the castle, but she knew she couldn't do that with a clean conscience.

"What do you want?" Theon sneered.

Miranna came to a halt in front of him. "I wanted to speak with Lady Stark."

"Anything you have to say to my mother, you can say to the rest of us." Robb's voice was harsh, anger simmering beneath the surface. Miranna met his gaze for a split second and found no kindness behind his eyes.

"I know. I trust all of you with what I have to say." She looked to Lady Stark, who gave her a curt nod. Miranna closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "My lady, I believe my family had something to do with the attempt on Bran's life. And with his fall from the tower."

Lady Stark's eyes widened in surprise, just for a second, before returning to a neutral expression. "What makes you think this?" she asked carefully.

"During the attack the assassin tried to cut your throat. He didn't hesitate. He had me practically by the neck, yet he only struck me and threw me aside." Miranna chewed the inside of her lip, looking down at the ground. "A Lannister must have paid him. It's the only thing I can think of that explains why I was spared. There aren't many people in Winterfell who are blonde of hair. He must have recognized me, and, not wanting to anger his employers, left me alive."

The group of Northerners was silent. None of the men would meet Miranna's eyes, either choosing to look to Lady Stark or, in Robb's case, glaring at the ground.

"Miranna," Lady Stark began, "I have also come to the same conclusion."

"I see." Miranna felt quite foolish. The whole thing seemed very obvious at the moment.

"I believe Bran saw something he wasn't meant to see in that tower. Do you have any idea of what that may be?" Lady Stark's tone was firm, but Miranna could sense the desperation behind it. 

"I don't know, my lady. I've thought about it these past few days, but I can't say for certain. Not without proof."

Lady Stark's gaze fell. She nodded once before walking down from the hill she stood on. When she reached Miranna, she paused, standing shoulder to shoulder with the girl. "I appreciate your coming forward with this. I will not forget it." There was no warmth in her words. A debt was to be paid, that was all. The woman brushed past Miranna, and the men followed suit.

Robb didn't even glance at her as he and Theon passed her. Oddly enough, Miranna didn't feel saddened. She clenched her fists instead.

"Robb." She heard Robb and Theon stop walking, and she turned around. Their backs were to her. "May I speak with you?" Her voice was firm and as emotionless as she could make it.

He nodded to Theon, who turned to glare at Miranna before leaving. When he finally faced her, she could see a thousand emotions cross his features.

_Anger. Betrayal. Regret._

"You don't trust me." It wasn't a question. She could see the disdain in his eyes.

"No, I don't. Not anymore."

"Why?"

Robb clenched his jaw. "You think that man sparing you proves your innocence? You said it yourself, he recognized you as a Lannister. How are any of us to know if you didn't meet him beforehand?"

Miranna stared at him in shock.  _He does have a point,_ she realized. "You know it's not like that," she said quietly.

"Do I now?" Robb scoffed. "I hardly know you at all. Perhaps you took me as a fool from the beginning, putting on a little act to make all of us think you were any different from the other Lannisters."

"What, since the day I arrived? You try pretending to be someone else when you're piss-drunk, see how well you do!" Miranna could feel frustrated tears threatening to form, and willed them to remain at bay.

Robb was silent, glaring at the ground. "What did Bran see in that tower?" he asked, low and quiet.

"I already told you-"

"You know more than you're letting on!" Robb took a step forward, looking Miranna dead in the eye. "I know you had me take you to Winter Town that day instead of showing you around the castle for a reason. You knew what was happening, and you didn't want us to stumble upon it!"

All Miranna could do was stand there, a heaviness growing in her chest. She felt almost breathless. "That's not true, and you know it."

Robb looked away, into the Godswood. "What didn't you tell us? You know  _something."_

Miranna fiddled with the cuffs of her sleeves. "I know it was one of my siblings. I can't say which one, or if more than one of them was responsible. As for what he saw," Miranna sighed. "I can't imagine what would be so serious that they would be feel the need to kill a child over it. Nothing I can imagine justifies that, though perhaps that's what I'm afraid of—that this was all over something trivial and one of my siblings is a monster." The Godswood was silent, save for the rustling of leaves in the wind. Miranna searched Robb's face for any sign of the man who'd comforted her only days ago, but found none. "Robb, I had nothing to do with this. I would never wish any harm upon your brother, or any member of your family. You know I could never do anything like that."

"No, I don't know that. I hardly even know you." Robb's voice was emotionless. He turned away from Miranna, walking back to the castle.

Something inside of her snapped, or perhaps it broke completely. Whatever it was, Miranna felt like a child once again, being told off for something she hadn't done. She strode towards him, her feet moving twice as fast as his. "You're not being fair!"

She knew it was a poor choice of words the moment they left her mouth. Robb whirled around, nearly knocking into Miranna in the process. "Do you know what's not fair? My brother, lying unconscious for weeks on end!"

Miranna took two steps back, startled by his outburst. Her heart was beating so loudly she was certain Robb could hear it too. She did her best to regain her composure, squaring her shoulders and trying to make eye contact with Robb. "What's happened to Bran is terrible, and I can't imagine what your family is going through, but I had nothing to do with it. I wouldn't have come forward and said what I did if I was involved." She could feel her throat tightening. "Please, you must see the logic in that!"

Robb only shook his head. Accusation was painted all over his face. Accusation, and regret. His mind was set on her being the enemy, and there was no changing that now.

That didn't mean she was going to give up. She knew she could be stubborn, and by the Gods was she being stubborn right now.

"I haven't changed into a monster."

Icy blue eyes met hers. "That's what I'm afraid of."

The two stared at each other for what felt like ages. Miranna was not about to turn away as she had when her father would make his will known, but she knew a lost cause when she saw one. 

She took a breath in, and exhaled sharply through her nose. "You were right about one thing. You  _don't_ know me."

With that, Miranna stormed off towards the castle, leaving Robb behind and hoping she broke something inside of him as well. She couldn't see his reaction, but that was for the best, as he couldn't see the hot tears streaming silently down her cheeks. She cursed herself the whole walk back, thankful she didn't hear footsteps behind her. Robb didn't need to see her weakness, didn't need to know that she was angry. Angry at him, for thinking she was worthy of being trusted with her siblings' secrets, angry at whichever sibling of hers did this in the first place. Most of all, she was furious with herself for believing that her happiness would last. She'd been stupid, getting her hopes up, and now she was paying the price.

Her father was right. Hope was a powerful weapon, and Miranna had allowed Robb to wield it against her like it was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I can't believe it's been ten chapters and over a month since I started this. From the bottom of my heart, thank you all for reading, and a special thank you to all of you who've left kudos, bookmarked, subscribed, commented, and otherwise interacted with this work! I wish I could send love and affection through my keyboard. Strap in, because there's going to be a lot more before this story is finished.


	11. X: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranna adjusts to life at Winterfell and speaks with her brother once more.

Miranna had always known she was an outsider at Winterfell. It was a new castle, filled with unfamiliar faces. Now, she was an outcast. Those who were present in the Godswood made sure of that. Lady Stark and Ser Rodrik had left, though she was unsure as to where they had gone. Possibly the capital, as Lord Stark was there, though she wouldn't be surprised if Lady Stark was visiting family in the Riverlands. As for Robb and Theon, they maintained their distance, acknowledging Miranna as "my lady" only when necessary.

Miranna returned the favor by not meeting their eyes and murmuring "my lord" in an attempt to appear unperturbed. She stopped wearing her Northern dresses and began dressing in what she'd brought from King's Landing. _If I'm going to be treated as an outsider, I may as well look the part._ Miranna gained some satisfaction from her choice of dress, but she doubted the men noticed the change. Her handmaiden, on the other hand, while never outwardly cold or rude, seemed to tug at Miranna's hair more when combing her fingers through it.

Despite the cold treatment she received from Robb and Theon, Miranna was able to find some comfort in her solitude; eight years at Casterly Rock had taught her more than to rot in her room and weep. While she did miss looking after Rickon and checking up on Bran, she found other ways to occupy her time. Miranna would read in the library, explore the castle, or alter the dresses Sansa gave her to better fit her figure. Sometimes, when she went for rides in the Godswood, she'd spot a direwolf or two running through the brush. The animals had never been particularly affectionate towards her, but she appreciated their company nonetheless. It was certainly better than having the animals hate her as well. The smallfolk's behavior towards Miranna also remained consistent. They were deferential and polite, which was all Miranna could ask for.

The one person from the Godswood who didn't treat Miranna like an adversary was Maester Luwin. She often saw him in the library, tending to the books or speaking in low tones with the septon. He kept her at a comfortable distance, but on the rare occasions Miranna met his gaze, his eyes held no malice. He finally approached her one day, while she was reading early in the morning.

"Lady Miranna."

"Maester Luwin." She closed her book. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" Some part of her hoped he was sent to tell her she would be returning to King's Landing.

"Are you aware that Bran has awoken?"

Miranna was taken aback. "Yes, I overheard several of the smallfolk discussing the good news." The commoners finding out before she had was a sign that Robb had deliberately failed to inform her of Bran's recovery.

"You haven't visited him yet." Luwin remained silent, clearly expecting an answer.

"I felt that my presence might anger Lord Stark." Several unspoken rules had arisen since her altercation with Robb, chief of which was for Miranna to keep away from the youngest Starks.

The Maester gave a great sigh. "Lord Stark has his father's temper, that I know. He will come around in time."

Miranna found herself fidgeting with the sleeves of her gown. "Perhaps when the full truth is revealed, but Gods know when that will happen."  _Or if it would change anything._

"I believe the Lannisters to be behind the boy's fall." Luwin looked at Miranna, a thoughtful expression on his face. "But I don't believe you were involved. Robb will come around," he said gently.

She cleared her throat, surprised by his words. "Does Bran remember anything?"

"No, he has no memory of his fall. Or what caused it."

Miranna frowned. "I see. Will you tell me if anything come back to him?"

"I will, my lady." Maester Luwin nearly turned away, but the title in front of Miranna caught his eye. " _The Conquest of Dorne_ _._ An interesting choice of literature for a Lady."

"I suppose I just enjoy books about interesting things." Miranna half-smiled at the Maester before pulling the book towards herself. "I should let you get back to your duties."

"And I shall let you enjoy your book. Good day, Lady Miranna."

"To you as well, Maester Luwin."

* * *

 The smallfolk proved to be reliable sources of information yet again. Less than a week had passed before she heard news that a small group of Lannister soldiers had been sighted, "the imp" among them. As soon as she was aware that they'd reached the castle, Miranna made for the great hall to greet her brother.

She heard his voice before she saw him. "Spare me your false courtesies, Lord Stark. There's a brothel outside your walls; there I'll find a bed, and both of us can sleep easier."

In the great hall, Robb and Maester Luwin were seated at the high table, Grey Wind laying in front of them. The direwolf's ears perked up when it caught sight of Miranna. Robb didn't look pleased at her presence, and she could only imagine how he'd received her brother. The man in question was facing Miranna, already making his way out of the hall.

"Tyrion!"

"My dear sister!" Tyrion's voice was warm, as was his smile. Miranna had to bend down to give her brother a proper hug, but when she did, she got her first look at Bran since he'd awoken. The boy looked more or less the same as when she'd first met him, only now he relied on Hodor for transport. A quick glance at Robb showed his disapproval of Miranna's gaze.

When she stood, she beamed at Tyrion before turning her attention to Bran. "It's nice to see you again, Bran."

The boy made eye contact briefly, nodded, and went back to examining the scroll in his hands.

Miranna, only a bit disappointed by Bran's reaction, placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. "Come, I'll escort you to the gates."

Once they were out of the hall, Tyrion gave Miranna a contemplative look. "How is your betrothal going?"

She gave a humorless laugh. "Wonderful. He hates me!"

"I feared as much. You haven't been so happy to see me since you were smaller than me."

Miranna pretended not to hear his comment. "He thinks our family had a part in Bran's accident, and that includes me." She paused, biting her lip. "He's right, though. A Lannister _is_ behind this."

"Oh?" Tyrion seemed to think his next words over carefully. "You don't think _I_ had any part in the boy's fall, do you?"

"Don't be silly. What's the worst thing he could've seen you doing, fucking a whore?" She shook her head. "It's more likely Jaime or, better yet, Cersei. Maybe Bran saw her with another man, and she wanted no witnesses to the affair. I can't say I'd blame her for having one, though." Tyrion was looking at her, a reflective look on his face. "What?"

"It's a wonder you're not more like father."

"What do you mean?"

"If he suspected his daughter, the Queen, was having an affair, he'd let his fury be known. But you take pity on her." There was a gleam in his eyes that hinted at more meaning behind his words.

"Well, she is my sister. I don't enjoy watching her suffer through her marriage." Miranna cleared her throat, coughing slightly at the end.

"Of course not," Tyrion mused. He glanced up at his sister. "You're not catching a chill, are you?"

"No," Miranna said defensively. "I haven't fallen ill since I was a girl. Besides, that's the last thing on my mind as of now."

"You must take care of yourself, even when those around you will not," Tyrion chided. "You are the lone lion in a pack of wolves who are waiting to tear you apart!"

Miranna rolled her eyes at her brother's theatrics. "I've never been much of a lion," she muttered. "Too small and weak to be intimidating."

Tyrion snorted. "I've seen quite a few people in King's Landing who would beg to differ." Miranna shot him an annoyed look. "No, truly! You can be quite passionate when you want something."

"I think _stubborn_ is the word you're looking for."

"Whatever you'd like to call it, it doesn't matter. Some quality allowed you to survive through childhood when most assumed you'd die. You grew up alone with father and managed to keep a gentle and kind demeanor, which is no easy task. You've got more lion in you than you realize."

"Hear me roar," Miranna said sarcastically, eliciting a chuckle from Tyrion.

They'd arrived at the castle gates, where Lannister guards and horses waited. Miranna leaned down to give Tyrion one last hug; he pressed a kiss to her temple. She didn't want to let go, and she had half a mind to ask Tyrion to remain in the North for a week longer. But Miranna knew he had his own duties down south, and any further delay would create problems for their entire family. "Safe travels, Tyrion."

Her brother pulled away, a grim expression on his face. "If your treatment worsens, send a raven. Understand?" Tyrion appeared satisfied with Miranna's nod, though she was uncertain if she'd even have access to the ravens if she'd ever need one. "Good. We Lannisters always pay our debts," he said darkly. With a final nod, he turned away and mounted his horse.

Miranna strode back to the castle, not daring to look back. Theon was walking towards the gates himself, shooting her a scowl as he passed. This time, however, Miranna wasn't as bothered. Seeing her brother had brought her some semblance of confidence again. She was no Northerner—that much was true.

What she _was,_ was a Lannister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long this update took! It was harder to write for whatever reason, and I've also been working a lot. BUT I'm super excited to write the next chapter, so it shouldn't be too long between chapters. Thanks for reading!


	12. XI: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranna decides to go for a ride in the Wolfswood.

Tyrion had been right—Miranna  _was_ catching a chill.  _Thank the Gods he's not here to gloat. I'm suffering enough already._ Between Robb and Theon's continued coldness and the annoyances that came with having a cough and a stuffed nose, she was ready to bash her head into a wall to make it all stop. To top it off, the castle felt colder than usual, leaving Miranna tempted to give up her subtle rebellion and dress in the warmer Northern dresses she'd stowed away.

Truth be told, she was going stir-crazy. At Casterly Rock, she'd been allowed to go for rides beyond the castle gates, or join her father when he had business to attend to in other parts of the Westerlands. Here, she didn't even dare to venture into Winter Town, not anymore. In a rare instance of good fortune, Miranna overheard Bran excitedly tell Rickon that he was going to ride his horse in the Wolfswood with Robb and Theon, thanks to the saddle Tyrion had designed.

Miranna felt that some fresh air would do her good. It wouldn't cure her, but she'd explored most of the castle and ridden through every inch of the Godswood, so a change of scenery was more than welcome. And regardless if Robb or Theon approved of her joining them, they couldn't really stop her from taking a ride. After all, she was betrothed to Robb—Winterfell was meant to be her home as much as his. In the late afternoon, Miranna saw the trio of boys making their way to the northern gate, Theon leading Bran's horse along. She threw her cloak over her shoulders, rushed down to the stables, and had Hodor saddle her horse before she could catch her breath.

The trees in the Godswood, while large, were dwarfed by those in the Wolfswood. The forest supposedly had wolves populating it; Miranna wouldn't be surprised if that was true. She soon came across a clearing, not far from the gates, where Bran was cautiously steering his horse in a walk as Theon and Robb sat on a large log, speaking to each other. They quieted at Arenna's hoof falls, though Miranna thought she heard someone say "Lannister."

"What do you think you're doing out here?" Theon made no move to stand, even as Robb rose from his seat.  _A reflex from being raised by a man like Ned Stark._

Miranna cleared her throat as best she could. "The Godswood, as beautiful as it is, does get dull after a month of riding in it. I won't bother you, so don't worry about hiding whatever it is you're talking about." Gods be damned, she still sounded sick.

Robb glowered at Miranna's comment. "It's not safe to go out on your own. You might get lost." There was no real concern behind his words, only a warning.

"I won't get lost. If nothing else, I'll ride south, and eventually find Winterfell. And if you thought I was thinking of running away," she narrowed her eyes at Theon, who'd been looking at her suspiciously, "I'd die long before I could make it to the Riverlands. Though I suppose I'd be one less thing for you to worry about, should anything happen to me. I won't be gone long." She nudged Arenna with her heels, and she was off, not bothering to look back at the boys.

As much as she disliked their behavior towards her, Miranna couldn't bring herself to hate them. She had the bad habit of remembering her interactions with them before. She'd remember Theon's grin when they drank, or Robb helping her walk even when he was drunk as well. Miranna wondered if Robb was as tortured by memories of their time together as she was.

She hadn't gotten too deep into the woods before she came upon a stream, which she decided to follow north. The sounds of the water trickling were soothing, and Miranna found herself enjoying the calm and quiet of the forest. Her senses of adventure and curiosity were awoken, and soon enough, she was urging Arenna to trot, then gallop through the trees, as fast as Miranna dared to go. She let out a laugh, feeling as though she was a child again, playing at being a great explorer in a mysterious new land. For an hour, she forgot she wasn't in the North, a bit ill and surrounded by people who despised her. It was only her and Arenna, alone together as they had been for years.

When Arenna began to tire, Miranna had her walk, giving her a chance to warm her hands. She'd forgotten her riding gloves in her hurry to the stables, though she would be able to manage until she decided to head back to Winterfell for dinner. She began to hum to herself, just bits and pieces of songs she knew. "The Bear and the Maiden Fair," "Jenny of Oldstones," even hymns that came to mind. As she hummed, Miranna thought she heard rustling in the ferns, just behind her. When she fell silent, the movement stopped.

Miranna had Arenna turn around. "Hello?" She hoped it was just a trapper, or a hunter who would be on his way.

A man stood up from the brush. His hair was matted, his face had dirt streaked all over, and his clothes weren't much better. The brown furs and cloth were filthy and poorly kept. _A wildling?_ Miranna had never seen one before, but it was certainly possible. "That was a pretty tune," he said. His eyes swept across Miranna and her horse, a smirk growing across his lips. "What's a rich girl like you doin' all alone?"

Miranna's heart shot into her throat. The solitude she had been so grateful for moments ago turned suffocating. If she screamed, she doubted anyone would hear it. "I was only going for a ride. I should, I should be getting back. Before I'm missed."

"Is that so?" The man took two steps forward, Arenna instinctively backing away. He chuckled. "I'll take your horse. I'll even leave you be."

Somehow, Miranna's fingers clutched the reins tighter. "You can't have her." Her voice chose the worst moment to break.

"I don't want to hurt you," the man said, pulling out a small knife, "but I will." His sadistic expression betrayed his words.

Miranna glared at the man, trying to give off some sense of fearlessness and control, as her father would have. "I am Miranna Lannister, daughter of Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West. I'm betrothed to Robb Stark, heir to the Warden of the North. If you harm me, there will be nowhere in the Seven Kingdoms you can hide." She would have sounded more threatening if her voice wasn't shaking.

The man only tutted, stalking past the brush, towards Miranna. Towards her horse.

 _I won't let him touch her._ Miranna jerked the reins to her right, trying to get Arenna to turn as quick as she could, but she wasn't quick enough. The man sprinted forward, grabbing hold of the saddle with his empty hand. Miranna freed her foot from the stirrup and shouted as she kicked the man square in the shoulder, knocking him back. Another shout and a snapping of the reins, and Arenna started to gallop. Miranna sat, breathless, wishing she'd pick up speed when the sound of metal sinking into flesh filled her ears.

Arenna reared, making the most horrible screaming sound Miranna had ever heard. She tried to hold on to her horse, but with one foot out of the stirrups and the silk of her gown denying her legs a grip on the saddle, she fell with a shriek. The reins slipped through her fingers, burning them as she swung towards her foot that remained stuck in the stirrup. Miranna hit the ground, her head striking a rock. Arenna dashed away, jerking Miranna along for a moment before her foot slipped out and she was still again. Miranna groaned, her mind fuzzy and disoriented. It reminded her of being drunk, except for the pain.

She heard footsteps approach her. The wildling man appeared above her, glaring.  _He tried to kill me._ Miranna tried to roll over to her front, to crawl away, but her limbs felt wooden and out of her control. A heel connected with her shoulder, pinning her face up. When it didn't let up, Miranna cried out, wordless and afraid.

"I wasted my best knife on you," the man growled. Miranna whimpered, tears leaking out of the corners of her eyes. The wildling's eyes were cold as they bore into her own, though his expression changed into a smirk. He removed his foot from her shoulder. "I'll let the wolves have you."

Miranna wanted to get up, to run away or to beg for mercy, but her limbs didn't feel as though they belonged to her. She could do nothing but watch as the wildling spat at her feet and walked away. Her vision swam, though if it was from exhaustion or the blow to her head, she couldn't tell.  _Perhaps if I rest a bit my head will feel better._ Sleep seemed like the best option, though Miranna had trouble thinking up other options at the moment. She didn't mind. Her eyes fell shut, and Miranna drifted into a dreamless sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be up soon. Originally, they were going to be one chapter, but it got so long I decided it was best if it was split into two. Thanks for reading!


	13. XII: Miranna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miranna attempts to find her way out of the Wolfswood.

The sky was on fire when she opened her eyes.

Miranna furrowed her brow.  _No, not on fire. The sun is setting._  She sat up slowly, hissing in pain as her head throbbed. Some of her hair was stiff and stuck to her neck. Her hand moved to the back of her head, behind her ear, where a lump had formed. When she pressed her fingers to it, pain shot out across her skull. Dark spots peppered her vision before disappearing. Her fingers were sticky. She brought them back into view, observing dark red blood on her shaking hand.

It was only then that Miranna realized how cold it'd gotten. Shivers wracked her body now that she'd started moving, and each time she breathed out, her breath was visible in the air. It reminded her of a dragon breathing fire. How she wished she could sit next to a fire now! All she had to warm herself was her cloak, and even that wasn't enough. The cloth and fur felt as cold as she did.

Miranna stood, using a nearby tree for support. She tried to think of where she'd come from, which castle she was staying in.  _Not Casterly Rock, far too cold. The North might be this cold, but what business do I have in the North?_  She thought for a moment before remembering Robb, Winterfell, and her betrothal. Robb and Theon had been in the woods as well when she left. They might be near enough to hear her if she shouted.

"Robb!" Miranna grimaced. Shouting made her head throb.  _Not a good idea._  She tried to listen as best she could, but if anyone heard her, they made no response. She would have to find her own way back to the castle.  _But which way is the right way?_ Miranna supposed she could follow the sun. It always rose and set the same way, and somewhere inside her mind she knew which direction it pointed now. She'd just have to trust her instinct and hope for the best.

She stumbled through the brush, her feet catching on the odd rock or root. Not that she wasn't unsteady on her feet as it was. Miranna's vision swam from the dizziness that assaulted her head, making it difficult to stand still, let alone walk. The constant shivering didn't help either. An endless number of trees surrounded her from every direction. Miranna soon felt that she'd been walking for miles, yet made no progress.

The sound of a stream caught her attention. An inkling of familiarity came to her, encouraging her that she went the right direction. A few minutes later and she could see the stream, no more than two feet across and clear enough that Miranna could see straight to the bottom. She perched on the bank, contemplating her dirty hand.  _It would be nice to get the blood off._

Miranna crouched, leaning down just enough to dip her hand in. She wobbled a bit, throwing out her other hand in an attempt to keep her balance, but toppled into the stream all the same. Miranna gasped from the cold, frozen in shock. She pushed herself up on her arms, scrambling onto dry land. The front of her dress was soaked from her chest to her feet and covered in mud. Miranna curled in on herself, trying to warm up even a little. Her shivering refused to let up, her teeth now chattering as well. She had no idea how it was possible to be this cold without having snow on the ground.

Twilight had snuck up on Miranna, causing trees to cast long, dark shadows. Before long, the sun would set completely, leaving her in darkness with no way to tell directions. She had to find Winterfell before that happened.

She staggered to her feet, swaying a little and clutching at her cloak. Much of the bottom had been soaked. Her wet clothes had to go. Miranna fumbled with the leather straps, but her fingers were too numb to do more than tug at them. The same went for the cords on her gown. She glared at her hands, willing them to work. They were an alarming red color, with marks across her palms where the reins had slipped through them.  _Did I fall off?_ Miranna knew she had been riding Arenna, why else would she be in the woods? Why her beloved horse would throw her was beyond comprehension.

That was besides the point. Right now, she needed to find her way to the castle. Miranna shuffled along, scarcely able to put one foot in front of the other. Her legs were stiff and uncooperative, as were her arms. Night fell, and Miranna realized that she'd been wandering about without any idea of where she was going. The stream was long gone, like the sun. A wolf howled, far off in the distance.

Miranna wasn't shivering much anymore.  _A sign I'm warming myself again._ She doubted her own thoughts. Her body was numb. Surely she would feel something if she was growing warm. Miranna blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog in her head.  _Should I be praying to the Mother, to watch over me?_

Her foot caught on a rock, sending her to the ground once more. Perhaps it would be easier to pray for a quick, merciful death than to continue on. Miranna thought of her family, her brothers, her niece and nephew, even her sister. If she were to die, she'd never get to hear Tyrion's banter, see Myrcella's sweet smile. Enduring Cersei and Jaime appealed to her, and Miranna knew she must be mad with cold.

She tried to rise to her feet, but her legs refused to hold her.  _Damn it all,_  she thought. Miranna crawled through the brush, pausing when her gown caught on branches or sharp rocks. Each new tear in the fabric found her a bit more lightheaded and giddy. Soon, she was giggling to herself on the forest floor.  _Father would be disappointed if he could see me now. Covered in filth, wearing rags, and crawling to the Starks for aid! What's become of House Lannister now?_ She was laughing so hard, she had to sit back, lest she fall to the ground again. Her father was such a funny man. Miranna donned her best scowl. "My daughter," was all she got out before bursting into laughter.

Her father, the fearsome Tywin Lannister. Miranna narrowed her eyes.  _If he's so smart, why did he send me all the way up here? Why didn't he leave some men with me for protection? If he had, I wouldn't be lost._ She pouted, angry at her father for abandoning her in a foreign land. Now, she wanted to get out of these woods to send a raven to her father with several choice words about trusting his own blood.

Miranna crawled for what seemed like ages, growing wearier with each passing tree. She found a fallen trunk to rest against, just until she could get her strength back. The moon was bright tonight, its light casting everything in a silver glow.  _It almost looks like a dream._ Her eyelids drooped, threatening to fall shut with each blink. Rest did seem like a good idea, if only for a few moments.

A branch snapped not far from where Miranna sat. Her sluggish heartbeat picked up in the hopes that someone had found her at last. Her elation turned to fear, for a wolf appeared from the woods. Miranna whimpered, trying to crawl away before it could see her. The wolf padded towards her, its breath bright in the moonlight. Miranna curled in on herself, bracing for an attack.

Instead, the wolf nudged her, its nose wet against her cheek. Miranna raised her head, squinting at the animal. "Grey Wind?"

The direwolf stared back at her, moving to sit beside her. Miranna gave a dry sob in relief. She threw her arms around him, finding warmth in his fur coat. Miranna nestled herself against him, her cheek pressed to his side. Grey Wind didn't seem to mind, though he did throw his head back and howl. Miranna wished he'd stop. It was quite distracting when she wanted to sleep.

She'd begun to drift off when the sound of horses approaching made her eyes crack open. Men's voices filled the air, shouting words she couldn't comprehend. Boots hitting the ground came next, then footsteps walking towards her. A gloved hand tilted her head away from Grey Wind. Fingers grazed over the sore spot on her head, drawing a groan from Miranna. Her eyes refused to open any further, so she couldn't make out who was bothering her. _One of my brothers?_ Whoever it was, they pulled her away from Grey Wind. _Tyrion isn't large enough to do that._ Miranna tried to protest, muttering "Stop it, Jaime." If it was her brother who was bothering her, he must not have understood her. She reached for the direwolf, her fingers finding emptiness where he'd been sitting moments ago.

A cloak was thrown over her. It still had the warmth of whoever wore it last in the furs and fabric. Miranna relaxed a bit, making no move to stop a pair of arms from scooping her up and carrying her away. The person carrying her said something; she could feel the vibrations in his chest. More hands found their way to her body and lifted her up sideways onto a saddle. She nearly fell backwards, but another pair of hands kept her steady.

Someone climbed onto the saddle behind her. They pulled Miranna close, tucking her against their chest. The warmth of the cloak around her and the steady rhythm of the horse's gallops were enough to have Miranna nodding off. Not even the rider shaking her shoulder was enough to stop her from succumbing to unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm switching things up in the next chapter!  
> I'll leave it to all of you to ruminate on what that might mean...  
> As always, thanks for reading (and for your comments & kudos & all that jazz)!


	14. XIII: Robb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb leads a search party into the Wolfswood.

Robb thought himself lucky; his brother was unharmed and he'd killed three men, remaining unscathed himself. The adrenaline from killing created a rush that refused to let up, even an hour after the ordeal. He chose to blame it for his restlessness as Maester Luwin tended to Bran.

The cut was shallow. Bran said it didn't hurt, even while Luwin sewed the wound up. Robb paced around the room, Theon talking his ear off about the Night's Watch deserters and the wildling woman they'd taken prisoner.

"We ought to write to the Lord Commander. Tell him to keep an eye out for more deserters."

"There's no point. He already knows who's gone, and I doubt he'll have much more trouble."

"Which is why we should write him. Tell him what happened to the deserters. He can use it as a warning to his men!"

Robb shook his head. "I'm sure Jeor Mormont is capable of threatening his men on his own."

"You're may go, my lord." Luwin tied off a length of bandage around Bran's leg. "I shall inspect the wound tomorrow, though I doubt it will fester."

"Thank you," said Robb. He picked Bran up himself and made for the kitchens, Theon not far behind. "You were very brave today, Bran. Father would be proud."

"I'm sure he would be, if he were here."

Robb's heart ached at his brother's words. As much as he wished Father and Mother were with them, he knew they had duties to attend to outside of the North. He only wished he could convey his understanding to his brothers.

Theon seemed to sense the tension. "Perhaps we should've given you a sword, and saved Robb the labor of rescuing you!" Bran laughed at that, and Robb relaxed a bit.

Rickon waited for them at the kitchen table, but began scarfing down his food the moment they entered the room.

"Don't choke yourself," Robb chided. He set Bran in his chair before serving himself. Rickon said something in response, but his mouth was so full, Robb couldn't understand him. "Rickon, you need to swallow before you speak. Didn't Mother teach you?"

Rickon scowled for a moment. "When can I go for a ride with Lady Miranna?"

Robb froze, making eye contact with Theon. He hadn't told his brothers about the conflict with the Lannisters, nor about his unspoken command that Miranna stay away from them. "I don't know. I expect she's quite busy around the castle and doesn't have time for rides."

"I see her go for rides almost every day." Rickon was now stabbing at his meat with his fork. "All she ever does is ride and sit in the library."

"I'll have Dallin take you out tomorrow. Perhaps you and Bran could start riding together. Bran, tell him about Dancer."  _Anything to get his mind off of Miranna._ Bran told Rickon all about his experience in the Wolfswood, and Robb took the chance to lean over to Theon. "Has she been seen since we got back?"

Theon shrugged. "She probably got back before we did. We _are_ eating late today, and she eats by herself anyhow. I'd bet she's sulking in the library right about now."

Robb nodded. He hadn't seen much of Miranna since their encounter in the Godswood, though that was for the best. After revealing his suspicions to Theon, the older boy told him it was better to grow distant with her, so she couldn't manipulate him.  _As she did before we found out her family's treachery._ The thought didn't sit right with Robb; it never had, even as he'd confronted her. Miranna had seemed genuinely kind, and she'd had him convinced that marriage could be more than a chain to keep him tied down.  _Gods, I'm thinking like an idiot._

A guardsman burst into the kitchens. "My lords," he panted, "you're needed at the gates."

"What's happened?"

"There's a horse..." The guardsman trailed off, catching his breath and gesturing outside.

Robb rose at once. "Rickon, stay with Bran." He and Theon followed the man to the northern gate, confused as to what could have happened that required their attention.

Miranna's horse had returned from the Wolfswood, riderless. A small knife protruded from the horse's hindquarters, and Robb felt his blood run cold.  _We never thought to look for more wildlings or deserters._ How could he have been so stupid?  _I never should've let her go off on her own in the first place,_ he thought.

"You, tend to the horse. The rest of you are coming with me. We need to form a search party."

"Robb." Theon's hand rested upon his shoulder. "She's as good as dead. You heard what she said—one less thing to worry about."

"If she's dead, the Lannisters have no reason to keep my father and sisters alive." Robb strode towards the stables. Like it or not, he was her betrothed. He was meant to be responsible for her well-being, and he'd failed. He couldn't rest with that on his conscience. "We need to find her alive."

"The sun's setting already!"

Robb threw his saddle on his horse. "Then we'd better hurry."

* * *

He'd instructed the search party to spread out and meet back in the clearing at nightfall. All twelve men had returned to the clearing, yet not one of them had found Miranna.

"Shit," Robb muttered. He had no way of knowing how long Miranna had been lost, but he did know that even with a cloak, her thin Southern gowns wouldn't offer much protection against the cold. He tried not to think about the wolves and what they'd do to her if they found her.

"Shall we bring the hounds, my lord?"

Robb shook his head. "No, I've got a better idea. I'll be back." He steered his horse back to the gate, jumping down the moment he was inside. "Grey Wind!"

His direwolf appeared a moment later, silent as the night. Robb crouched down, scratching his ears. Grey Wind looked up at him, and Robb was struck by the intelligence behind his wolf's eyes.

"Come on, boy. I need you to find Miranna."

He led Grey Wind to the stable, where he grabbed Miranna's saddle from its place and held it for the direwolf to smell. It wouldn't have as strong a scent as an article of clothing, but Robb didn't have time for that.

His wolf exited the stable, padding towards the gate. Robb half-smiled, proud of his pet and his idea to use him in the first place. He mounted his horse, following Grey Wind as closely as he could, riding past the search party in the process. He heard shouting, and soon enough, galloping behind him.

Grey Wind picked up speed, disappearing from sight. Robb pulled back on the reins, his men following suit. Everyone sat, silent and still.

"What is it?" Theon hissed.

"Shut up and listen." Robb waited another moment, and then a howl cut through the forest. "Come on!"

He'd underestimated how far into the Wolfswood Miranna had ridden. The area Grey Wind led them to was several miles north of the gate. He stood over a rock, sniffing at a particularly dark spot. Robb climbed off his horse, crouching to inspect it.

_Blood._ Only a little, at first glance. It streaked off of the rock, across the ground where the trail ended in a small puddle. Not enough to warrant death, but an alarming amount nonetheless. Stabbing wasn't out of the question, given the knife they'd found.

"She's not here," Theon called out. He and the other men had spread out, searching for the girl on foot.

Robb felt hope blossom in his chest, surprising himself. "She may be alive yet."

Grey Wind inspected the area for a few more moments before pausing and staring ahead. He barked, running to the west. Robb rushed back to his horse, Theon and the others following suit. They'd lost sight of the direwolf almost immediately, but Robb insisted they wait for Grey Wind to signal his findings.

One minute turned to ten, then to twenty. Robb felt worry clench in his gut.  _What if he comes back with nothing?_ _Or, worse yet, only a part of her?_  He clenched his fists, trying to get the image out of his mind. He didn't want to think of Miranna as anything other than alive and well.

A howl pierced through the forest, more distant than the last. Robb dug his heels into his horse, urging it to gallop as fast as he dared. Minutes later, Robb spied his direwolf, a small figure beside him. Behind him, he heard Theon instructing a few men to go have the Maester prepare for their arrival.

"Miranna!" Robb shouted. He jumped off his horse the moment it was still, reaching her in a few quick strides.

She made no acknowledgement of his presence, and she looked downright awful. Her hair had come out of its braids, matted and dirty. Her gown was tattered, completely soaked through and covered in mud. The worst thing, though, was the red tinge to her cheeks and nose—a sure sign that she'd been in the cold for too long—yet she didn't shiver.

He knelt in front of her, reaching out to tilt her head towards him. "Miranna?" Her eyes were open, just barely, but they saw nothing. With her head at a new angle, he noticed the blood covering the back of her head. Gently, Robb probed the area, finding a lump the size of a chicken's egg. Miranna groaned. Robb took that as a good sign, that she was lucid enough to register pain. He moved his hand down to her shoulder, tugging her off of Grey Wind. "Go on, you did well," he said to the direwolf.

Miranna protested at the movement, her lips forming hopelessly slurred words. She reached for the direwolf, but he'd trotted off, his duty fulfilled. Robb understood the action, though. He undid the leather straps of his own cloak, throwing it over her. It seemed to calm her, as she made no protest to Robb sliding his arms under her knees and back and scooping her up. With a twinge in his chest, he remembered the last time he'd held her. It seemed ages ago, and for a moment, he wished he could go back to that night.  _Before our lives changed._

"How is she?"

Robb blinked, his thoughts interrupted. "Not well. She's been struck on the head, soaked to the bone, and lost in the cold for Gods know how long."

Theon hummed in response. "She's lucky it's not winter, or she'd be dead for certain."

Robb ignored Theon's comment for the time being. "Help me get her up." With Theon's help, he was able to sit Miranna sideways on his saddle. He clambered up behind her, pulling her to him with one hand and gripping the reins with the other. He assured himself that Miranna was secure before leading the remaining men back to Winterfell.

Not long after they'd set off, Robb felt Miranna go completely limp against him. He jostled her shoulder, panic rising in his chest when she didn't stir. Robb didn't dare to pick up his pace, lest he lose his grip on Miranna. He'd been lucky to find her alive. Now, he prayed he could get her back to Winterfell before it was too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh, I've been waiting to write Robb's POV for some time now! Hope you all enjoyed, and s/o to mydistraction122 for figuring out that this was coming—you were completely right! There'll be another Robb POV after this before we get back to our girl Miranna.  
> Thanks for reading!


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